


The Long Way Home (Run Away With Me)

by kabigon



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Happy Ending, Fairy Tale Elements, Falling In Love, M/M, Merman Shoma, Romance, Side Pairing Yuzuru Hanyu/Javier Fernandez, Slow Burn, this is not as comedic as the summary sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabigon/pseuds/kabigon
Summary: Nathan is an idiot land dweller who needed rescuing by a merman, and Shoma, said merman, is the idiot merman who rescued him, accidentally giving away his magic in the process.  Now he has to get it back.
Relationships: Nathan Chen/Shoma Uno
Comments: 63
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story certainly ripped tears and frustration from me and there were definitely a lot of late night angsting sessions. It was... quite a journey and I don't think I would have been able to do it without my support system. [alchemicink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemicink/pseuds/alchemicink) who held by hand through multiple crisis and also beta-ed, _**allaboutyu._.zu**_ who kept me on track by encouraging me to keep writing and heavily cheerleading me along the way, and [Panda_tan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panda_tan/pseuds/Panda_tan) who was basically my Nathan and Shoma enclopedia. Thank you all for being an amazing support system.
> 
> The story basically came about because I was showering one day and thought, "If Shoma was a Disney Princess he would totally be Ariel," and here we are. The story is lightly inspired by elements from the Hong Kong romcom _Mermaid Got Married._

It’s lonely in Japan, lonelier still when he hardly speaks the language and knows exactly five people, four of which are all the members of the immediate imperial family. Yuzuru, of course, his fiance, betrothed through circumstances not fully in their control but carried out for honor, duty, and, for Nathan, love of his family. Saya, Yuzuru’s sister and heir apparent to the throne, betrothed to someone else already who’s connection is much more valuable to the family than Nathan’s would ever be. Yuzuru’s parents, Emperor Hidetoshi and Empress Yumi who, like their son, values honor, duty, and family above all others. Except in their case “family” means all the people of Japan.

And then of course his royal minder: Kenji. Not a tall man by any western standards but pretty much the average here in Japan, clocking in at five feet eight inches. Taller than Nathan at least but it doesn’t really bother Nathan. At eighteen he had learned to embrace it. Can’t change these kinds of things so what’s the point in lamenting?

There’s nothing remarkable about Kenji. Normal black hair, two inches long maybe, styled with only a split down the middle. Average weight with his average height. Same black suit, same black tie every day. Nathan suspects it’s more an intended result than a true reflection of who he is in his private life. All the household staff are the same: polite, quiet, efficient and unremarkable. So much so they almost blend into the walls.

Not much contrast to Saya, Emperor Hidetoshi and Empress Yumi except that rather than blend in there’s something about the way they carry themselves, something in the posture of their shoulders and the way they walk. They don’t so much disappear as they stand out, tall and regal. _Royal._ Yuzuru too, can be the same sometimes. Most times actually, when he’s needed to be. At official royal events or a state dinner. All the other duties he fulfills like visiting hospitals or areas of natural disaster. Except when he’s with children or at home and away from curious, prying eyes. There he’s different. Brighter. More jubilant and carefree. Like when he skates. Nathan watches him sometimes when they skate together in the private rink the family had built specifically for Yuzuru. Yuzuru moves across the ice like he’s wind, featherlight as his blades scratch along the surface, and he practically _glows,_ his youthful face alight.

It’s the same for Nathan. Ice skating, that is. Not the glowing thing. It’s one of the few things they have in common. He’s nowhere near as good as Yuzuru is though. If he wasn’t a prince and therefore forbidden from competing Nathan thinks that’s what Yuzuru would have done with his life. Skate and compete; skate and compete until his body broke down on him.

It’s not the end of the world that Nathan gave it up a year ago. He loves the competition, sure, and the pure rush of skating but there’s more than one road. Raf had raged a little, in his quiet, rough and grizzly way, grumbling about how Nathan was too talented to just quit, that if he stayed he could be World Champion one day if not Olympic Champion. Nathan _had_ gone home and thought about it seriously but the following week he’d told Raf he’s looking beyond his twenties.

Getting into Yale was kind of a dream come true. There were other schools he applied to for safety, of course, like UCLA and Berkley, Stanford and Brown but Yale was the dream and he’d gotten in. If everything had gone to plan he would have majored in Statistics and Data Science, using his degree to get a Masters in the field and then hopefully be able to combine his love of science and numbers with the other great love of his life: basketball. The NBA had been a long held dream, another he has had to let go.

It wasn’t meant to be after all because here he was, in Japan and newly minted eighteen, formally betrothed Japan’s only prince, currently the second in line to the throne. He’s not really sure what exactly is going on with his family’s small medical pharmaceutical research company, only that it was constantly being threatened, under attack from other major pharmaceutical companies who wanted his father’s work, who wanted to fold Chen & Co under their umbrella.

Nathan knows in his heart his family would never ask this of him if there was any other way. They’d fought as best they could, weeks and then months, trying to find any way they could to stave off the inevitable but the pressure was too much and the funds were not there.

Pressed against the wall, everything closing in on them there was no time left and no other choices either. It was time to call in the favor owed to them. In the end Nathan had only heard the sparknotes version, truncated and in bullet points. A long time ago his great, great-grandfather, by circumstances designed by fate or chance, luck perhaps, had saved the then Emperor of Japan’s life and had been granted a boon that the family carried to this day. They get a card a year, a formality from the Imperial Family reminding them that they have not forgotten the debt they owe, and should the time come, they will honor it.

So an exchange of sorts because Nathan was not _sold_ to the Imperial Family, no. An _exchange_ necessitated by the need to avoid a scandal, such a ridiculously large amount being given away. Taxpayer’s yen, the people would say if they ever knew, so an engagement and a marriage to disguise all of it, hidden under the guise of tradition.

It’s not how Nathan saw his life going but it isn’t so bad because hey, he’s going to be a prince, right? It’s not every day some unknown commoner becomes a prince.

And Kenji, though unremarkable he may be, is kind enough to allow Nathan his freedom even if he remains always a step behind.

Today, again, Nathan sits on the beach, wet sand under his toes, with his arms loosely looped around his knees. The sun is high and the waves have become unnaturally calm as Nathan looks onwards towards home, water eclipsing his toes again and again. A part of him aches.

The other part of him relaxes, breathes in deeply to inhale the scent of sea-salt air. It reminds him of that one summer they spent in Santa Barbara when he was maybe… five? It was the first time he had seen the ocean and he never wanted to stop. He remembers countless times running towards the waves without his mother in tow, how she yelled after him to stop, panicked and terrified that maybe this time he wouldn’t listen. But he was always a good son, she would tell him later while tenderly pushing his hair away from his face, so he always stopped right before the water.

Nathan remembers too, halfway through the summer, a curious boy who had risen out of the water a few feet ahead of him. The first time they met he cocked his head to the side, blinking owlishly at Nathan. Nathan had smiled, waved, and said hello, only for the boy to spook and dip under, disappearing. But every time after that the boy was there whenever Nathan was. He wouldn’t speak, or… well, Nathan doesn’t remember him speaking but that was okay because Nathan spoke plenty for the both of them. They dug holes together and built sandcastles together. They walked along the waves because the other boy refused to stray further and pretended to be pirates looking for treasure and found crabs and hermits and seashells, colorful and shiny.

It’s a fond memory, especially now that he’s all alone. Save Kenji but Kenji is so silent, so unheard and unseen most days he might as well be.

The waves begin to retreat. And retreat. And retreat. Curious thing. His eyes follow the water, enchanted, and by the time he understands what’s happening it’s too late. Kenji, who had done him the courtesy of hanging back further up the beach, wasn’t fast enough and Nathan, who’d tried standing up and running away, wasn’t fast enough either. It’s not a large tsunami, a little over three meters, maybe, but it’s still faster than him, swift and unforgiving.

He only has time enough for a gasp of air before he’s engulfed. There’s water everywhere and he’s panicking even though the rational part of his mind is screaming at him not to because panicking means he won’t be thinking clearly. And he isn't. He doesn’t know which way is up or which direction is back to shore and by the time he figures it out he’s being dragged further under, further away and out to sea.

He can’t-

He can’t-

He’s fighting with everything he has but he can’t hold his breath any longer.

_Please,_ he begs with the last of his consciousness. _Someone. Save me._

_\----_

_Please,_ Shoma hears, almost too sharp, a desperate cry in his mind. _Someone! Save me!_

It’s easy to ignore the land dwellers’ pleas for help for they poison his waters and his home. They reap only what they sow and soon enough the ocean will do her part. She will claim lands and lives from them in repatriation. One lost at sea now is no scales off his tail. They all know, have been instilled from birth, these land dwellers, _humans,_ are unkind even to themselves. How could they be kind to any other? To the merfolk they would be nothing more than a plague come to devastate them all. Look at what they’ve done to his tuna friends! More and more there are less of them and though the cycle of life is nothing new, the rate at which they are disappearing, being _eaten,_ is unnatural. Soon there will be no more young to replace the ones who die.

Even now he’s too close to shore, too close to a chance sighting and discovery. They’d all been taught when young: stay hidden at all costs; do not go to shore for anything but if you must, do not go without your legs. He’d been a small little fry too curious about the world above for his own good because surely not all were that bad. Just like there are bad fishes in the sea -- _sharks,_ his mind supplied, the venom dripping with the word -- surely the people destroying his home were only sharks of a different variety. He knows better now that he’s older, now that he’s spent time learning, listening. Where there is no water, sharks are more prevalent than anything else.

Except, he remembers, possibly one boy. He hopes so, at least. He remembers when they were both small, playing along the shoreline together, building something he called a “castle” with straight erected walls and a trench to fill with water. They dug holes too just to see how far they could go and this Shoma was more familiar with, his own school of family, immediate and extended living in a series of tunnels and rounded rooms. The boy spoke to him words he didn’t understand so he’d leaned forward to mash their mouths together so his magic could do its part, giving him the language in thoughts if not in actual physical speak. When they separated and the boy started speaking again, asking Shoma if he understood English he nodded and so they continued on their merry way.

Their time together did not last though, for his mother soon learned from his younger brother Itsuki that he was not playing with the other frys as he had promised but instead going ashore to play with a human boy and she put a stop to it quickly enough.

He still thinks of that boy fondly sometimes even if all he has attached to the memory is a fuzzy face. That’s what he’d been thinking about when he let the swells build and carry him earlier in the day. Lost in thought, half in meditation and warmed by the sun, he’d let himself be carried too far inland and now he needs to get back quickly before he is discovered. No doubt the little tsunami he had unintentionally created would bring attention and people, and with people came the technology that would unveil him and his kind to the world if he were to be caught.

Something holds him back though. This land dweller. No. He should just go. Leave. Kick his fins and swim away. But that face… long and narrow, strong nose with a weak bridge… something about his jawline and the shape of his ears feels familiar. A fit of nostalgia and emotion and his heart clenches. 

He doesn’t allow himself to think. If he did he never would have, he’d never allow himself to go back, to help, to loop his arm around the man’s middle and kick with his transformed legs, dragging him back to land. The man is safe from the water and still he doesn’t wake up. Shoma waits for a beat hoping that all he needs is a moment for his lungs to work but nothing. Shoma hovers a hand over his nose to see if there’s any air and still nothing. He hits the man’s chest a few times with a closed fist right in the center, hoping to maybe force some water out but it’s no use. He has to use his last resort, he decides, and he needs to do it quickly. He’s not sure about human anatomy but air seems to be very important to them.

He calls up the magic inside of him, gifted to each merfolk so they can breathe under the water, so they’re not crushed by the sheer weight above their heads. Such a powerful thing and yet when called up and forced into physical form it’s nothing more than a tiny pearl about the size of his pinky’s tip. There is always a little magic imbued in each of them, innate to their being so that he could theoretically live in the sea without it But without it he’d lose his way, no sense of direction or home, his baser instincts taking over, more fish than human. Shoma puts it in the man’s mouth, makes him swallow it so that the borrowed magic can fuse with his body if only for a moment to force out any water from his lungs and fill it with air again. It takes longer than Shoma wants as the seconds seem to stretch but just when he’s about to give up and reclaim his magic the man sputters, coughing water out of his mouth before he jerks up, eyes wide and alert and scared staring up at Shoma in his half raised state. When his eyes focus though, he seems to soften, a peaceful smile forming on his lips. In a daze he asks Shoma, “Am I dead?”

Shoma tilts his head in confusion because well… the man doesn’t seem to be too upset by the thought he might be dead. If anything maybe a little… happy? Content? He opens his mouth to answer that no, he isn’t, only to realize that he may have repeated the sounds in his head a multitude of times in a multitude of ways but his throat has no clue how to form them. The silence drags on as he tries and the man, now concerned, tries to sit up fully only to groan and plop back down.

“Nope, not dead. Ugh, everything hurts.” There’s a sharp inhale like he’s finally realizing something, and then he pushes himself back up, this time sitting up fully and forcing Shoma back some. “Last thing I remember is being pulled under. Were you caught by the waves too?” he asked, but before Shoma could possibly answer, “Did you save me? Are you okay?”

Save him? _Yes,_ he thinks. _I dragged you from the water and when you wouldn’t breathe I-_

The pearl! His magic! How stupid of him! He’d been caught up in a handsome face and alluring eyes, the familiarity of them and too curious for his own good and now that he’s fully awake and conscious Shoma should have called back his magic before the man could gather his wits!

_Do it now!_ He screams at himself. He moves in to cover the man’s mouth with his and the man, shocked by Shoma’s sudden movement freezes, eyes open wide.

Just when he thinks he can still salvage this whole situation the man jerks away at the sound of another human. In the distance they both hear a panicked, “Nathan-sama!”

_Nathansama,_ he repeats slowly, keeping the name with him and musing to himself, _What a long name._

The man -- _Nathansama_ \-- pulls away, putting a few more inches between them. Panic grips Shoma’s heart.

_No. You can’t._ His chance is slipping away. Without his magic he can’t go home and the more time he wanders the depths of the ocean alone without it he’ll slowly lose himself. _You can’t keep my magic!_

When Nathansama moves to stand, Shoma reacts, his fingers curling into Nathansama’s shirt.

Surprised, Nathansama turns back around. “Are you hurt?” he asks, concerned again but this time patiently waiting for an answer but Shoma can’t do more than open and close his mouth willing a sound, any sound, to come out.

“Nathan-sama, do you know this man?”

“Uhhh… no, I don’t Kenji,” he says, turning his face to the new person. “I think he saved me? He hasn’t actually said anything though.”

They both turn to Shoma then, Nathan again, this Kenji for the first time, and freeze. Nathansama reddens and turns away, his cheeks pinking and the other -- _Kenji,_ he repeats -- clears his throat uncomfortably before shrugging off his uppermost piece of clothing and handing it to Shoma.

_“Are you okay?”_ The man asks in another language but still Shoma cannot answer. _“Did anyone come with you?”_

Shoma takes the clothes wordlessly and covers himself. This need to cover their bodies is so _human_ and so _pointless._

“Nathan-sama,” Kenji says, redirecting after Shoma does not answer, “Let’s get you back home.”

“Yeah,” Nathan says, sighing, his body sagging. “I’m beat.” But then his attention is back on Shoma. “What about you? You gonna be okay?”

Stricken again, fearful, Shoma clutches at him and shakes his head, screaming _No, you can’t! You have to give me back my magic!_ except no, neither of them can hear him.

“Nathan-sama,” Kenji urges with a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay. Hold on, hold on,” he says quickly, and in the next breath, “Let’s take him with us, okay?”

“Nathan-sama-”

“Hey, no, listen. I don’t see anyone else for miles. Do you? And he’s _naked_ Kenji. We can’t just leave him, okay?”

A pause, and then a nod and, “As you wish.”

Shoma breathes a sigh of relief at not being separated from Nathansama and Nathansama breathes his own sigh though probably for a much different reason. And then a new dread seeps into his stomach, tying it into knots. Not being separated means going further inland.

When they start to move, Nathansama helps him stand on wobbly legs and then he reddens again, clearing his throat before he tugs off his shirt, now leaving him shirtless, and offering it to Shoma who only stares at it in confusion because… what is he going to do with two shirts?

An awkward silence stretches between them, then Nathansama asks, “Give me the jacket?” and Shoma hands one of them to him without thought, only for him to shake his head slightly and grab the other piece. Nathansama hooks the jacket over his shoulder then he tugs the shirt over Shoma’s head, guiding each arm through the holes while Shoma stands there dubiously, letting the shirt fall down to just past his hip bone before he picks up the jacket again and ties it around Shoma’s waist.

Each step further and further away from the ocean brings more and more apprehension. He’s never ventured this far away before and he doesn’t want to. He wants to go back. He wants to toss himself into the ocean and let the waves carry him home. He wants to… he wants to go back in time and never give Nathan his magic. He wants to have never heard Nathan’s desperate pleas for help or met that boy so that he would give in. He just… he wants to go home.

The harsh realization that if he loses Nathan in the sea of people on land he’ll never be able to go home again isn’t comforting but it's all he has to hold onto so that he can take that next step. And the one after that too.

Be brave my little Shoma, his mother’s voice tells him, an echo from memory. One step at a time. There is water in his eyes and it blurs his vision. He blinks and they disappear, only to fill his eyes again. He wipes them away but they keep coming back. _Oh,_ he thinks, _this is crying._ He never knew it could feel like this, like there’s a hole inside him that won’t close.

Nathansama notices and pulls him in, an arm thrown around Shoma’s shoulder, his fingers in Shoma’s partially dried hair, fulfilling it like he thinks it’ll make Shoma feel better. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you. I promise.”

Shoma nods but he’s not sure if he believes. It seems Nathan doesn’t believe him either because he continues, insisting, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?” There’s something in the resonance of his voice, a comforting reassurance, a confident timber that assuages some of Shoma’s worry. This time when he nods he means it.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, he’s an idiot. He definitely just almost died but all he can think about on the short ride back to the villa is how the haphazardly dressed boy next to him really is cute. Seriously, how stupid can he be? Life traumatizing event in a country he doesn’t know, engaged to the prince of said country, and all he can focus on is the sharp cut of a jaw, the rounded cheeks, rosy and flushed, disastrous wavy hair, soft doe-brown eyes and how they had looked out of the window with apprehension that soon dawned into awe.

_ Chen, get it together, _ he tells himself but it’s no use. He’s enraptured, caught, and God, he feels so silly sitting there without a shirt on. What did giving the other boy his shirt even matter? In the car the jacket had fallen open the moment he sat down and since then Nathan has tried to firmly keep his eyes from wandering. Key word here being  _ tried _ because he’d definitely caught himself looking at strong muscled thighs and following the skin there to where, thankfully, the rest of him was still hidden before he realized and yelled at himself to stop being a perv. He may only be eighteen but that’s no excuse.

The few staff kept on hand to maintain the often empty villa greets them at the door with a bow, which, after a month in Japan he’d mostly gotten used to. Being who he is, or more precisely who he  _ will _ be means he hasn’t had to bow anyone and the Imperial family themselves are very much blasé about the tradition within the walls of their own residence. Still, it’s an important part of their culture and he’s deathly afraid he’s going to mess it up somehow and embarrass the Imperial Family in the process. They’ve been so kind to him and his family, Yuzuru especially, and he never wants to embarrass them. He owes them so much.

He toes off his shoes and slips into the house slippers without thought. The boy, behind him, stares at them curiously before, tentatively, he follows Nathan’s lead, grimacing after he places his feet inside.

Nathan can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes. “Yeah, I didn’t like it either the first few times. But, you know, now I can’t imagine being inside without them on. It’s a little weird but eh, I’m weird so-” he shrugs a shoulder.

The boy remains unimpressed if his glower is anything to go by, but it’s cute. He’s cute. There’s no crime in thinking someone is cute!

He takes the boy into the guest receiving room, amused by how the boy seems to marvel at the space, at the structure and furniture and the decorative art.

“You can stay here for a bit,” he says even as the boy is still distracted. “I’m gonna go find you some clothes.”

At this the boy’s attention whips back to him alarmed and shaking his head no repeatedly as, once again, he clutches at Nathan, this time fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“You’ll be okay here,” he tries to reassure but it’s not getting through. Likely that it won’t. “Okay,” he says next, “you wanna come with me?”

The boy relaxes, his hold loosening but not letting go.

It’s when they’re going through Nathan’s clothes trying to find something to wear that he realizes they should probably shower first, get the salt and dirt and grime off of their skin. This might be a little more challenging, he thinks, especially since he doesn’t think a shower would deter the boy from tagging along.

\----

“Showering” and “bathing” are weird concepts to Shoma. The idea that there’s something invisible sticking to his skin, dirtying it and making him smell bad? Does he smell bad? He has never really smelled anything before save for the salty air. He brings an arm up to sniff. Nothing terrible. Stale. Salt. Maybe a hint of earthiness. Is that the right word? He’s not sure. There are no smells in the ocean.

From what he gathered is called a toilet, he strays towards the bathing area at the sound of a  _ pop _ even though he had promised not to. Glancing through the clear barrier separating the two of them he watches, entranced as Nathansama pours something from a container into his hand, and then with sudden awe as the liquid turns to foam when he rubs it between his hands before transferring the foam into his hair. The scent -- a hint of trees, cool and clean -- hits Shoma’s nose and he breathes deeply, storing the scent into his memories. He likes it, wants to keep it with him once he goes home.

With a tilt of his head towards the neverending spray of water, the foam gets washed out and Shoma follows the bubbles as they travel down Nathansama’s body. First down a strong, corded neck, toned chest, nice stomach and down a thick thigh. Somewhere in all that staring Shoma’s breathing has turned shallow and there’s this feeling in the pit of his stomach, below his belly button. Under the towel he’d been given he feels something unknown stirring below and he flushes, unsure and confused but still embarrassed, and directs his eyes down and away again, turning his whole body so that he faces forward.

Another five, ten minutes maybe, the water turns off. Nathansama opens the barrier between them, reaches out for the towel he had hung on a hook and steps out, wrapping the towel around his waist.

He offers Shoma a smile, and says to him, “Your turn.”

Shoma is apprehensive at first, eyeing the door to the right of them until Nathansama promises him, “I’ll stay until you’re done.”

He recalls how the water was turned on. A twist of the handle in front of him and the never ending spray returns. The water is cold against his skin and Shoma sighs with contentment as it washes over him. Finally, something he knows. Sort of. An approximation at least. Unlike with Nathansama the clear barrier between them remains just that.

A pleasurable shiver runs down his spine, the water a comfort to him. When he’s had enough he remembers Nathansama grabbing for a container and, eyeing the lines of bottles on the wall, he decides maybe it might be best to pick the same one he did. Just to be safe. He repeats the motion he remembers: pour a little into his hand, put the container back, rub his hands together and then… rub his hair?

There’s an awkward unease to his motions, stilted, a pale imitation of what he’d seen, and then suddenly a burning in his eyes. He cries out, the sound escaping before he can clamp it down, and he closes his eyes immediately, tightening his lids as a shield. But hey, he’d made a sound, however unintentional it may have been. Hopefully that means with a bit of practice he can learn to speak too.

Nathansama’s concerned voice is there immediately, closer now than before. “You got some shampoo in your eye,” he explains slowly, as if to a simpleton and Shoma’s cheeks flush, embarrassed yet again. “Tilt your head back some and let the water wash it away.”

He does as he’s instructed and when he opens his eyes again they’re heavy but they no longer burn. But after, he doesn’t know what to do next so he stands there, looking around to see if he could discern logically what he should do. He’s washed his hair so maybe… his body next? He spots a purple ball of fluff hanging on the wall and unhooks it, holding it under the water before he starts rubbing it on himself, grimacing because he hates how it scratches and drags on his skin.

He hears a laugh on the other side and jerks up, eyes wide in confusion.

“You need soap.”

Shoma tilts his head in inquiry.

Nathansama points to one of the containers lining the enclosed space and hesitantly, Shoma picks up the same container he used for his hair.

“Um…”

He puts it back, knowing from that sound alone he’s made yet another mistake.

“Here, let me-” And then the door opens and Nathansama’s hand reaches in. He yelps and jerks back. “Why is the water so cold?! I’ll just- hold on.”

The handle gets shifted once more and the water changes from cold to cool to warm, warmer, straddling between that and hot. All the muscles in his body relax and he sighs, feeling himself loosen. By the time he comes to, a different container is held out for him to take and use.

\----

“My name is Nathan,” he says when he’s toweling the other boy’s hair dry after another bout of confusion, this time accompanied with lost and confused eyes through sopping wet hair. “What’s yours?”

Shoma can’t answer and so he remains silent.

“You can’t talk, right? Like you’re mute?”

The boy nods.

“Can you read?”

Another shake.

Probably unlikely if he can’t read but Nathan’s has to ask. “What about writing?”

Another grim shake.

“Okay,” Nathan says as he lets out a breath, mind already wracking through his brain to come up with a solution. The only one he lands on isn’t pretty, and probably tedious at best but what the hell. “I’m gonna sound out letters and you nod your head when I get the first one right. And then we’ll go to the next letter after that and keep going. Sound good?”

Another nod, this time in understanding, hopeful. By the time Nathan gets to T he’s pretty ready to pull his hair out. And then, duh, how could he be so stupid? Syllables would make all of this go so much easier! And he’s already trying to study one that pretty much includes most English sounds.

“Okay,” he starts again with a huff. “Change of plan. I make syllable sounds, you nod when I get it right?”

This time the boy’s nod is more enthusiastic.

Much easier this time around, it’s quick work to string together his name. “Shoma?” he asks again to be absolutely sure. The boy’s-- No, Shoma’s whole face lights up. Shoma. “Pretty name,” he says, offering the compliment easily and takes pride in the pleased little smile Shoma gives him. “Is there someone we can call for you? Come pick you up?”

Shoma shifts his eyes awake and slowly shakes his head. A lie it feels like or at least something close to it, feeling the truth intuitively, like something else inside him is guiding him to that conclusion.

“Do you live close to here?”

This shake of his head Nathan knows is truthful. He doesn’t know why he does it except that he felt compelled, something inside of him pushing him to do it. He says to Shoma without much thought, “You can stay with me.”

It’s stupid. This isn’t his home and he’s offering it freely like he has the right. He’s not even staying here at the villa long. In a few days time he’s going back to Tokyo. And then what? Ask Yuzuru, “Hey, I found this stranger by the beach and told him he could live with me, which actually means with us? I totally saw him naked but it’s okay since that’s a thing here, right? Please? Pretty, pretty please?”

Once the words are out there though he can’t take it back. It’s too late, especially when Shoma is nodding eagerly at him.

\----

Sustenance before, deep in the recesses of ocean water didn’t matter too much. Their magic kept them from needing anymore than the occasional feeding of plankton or algae, but without it now he had felt, within his stomach, an emptiness that keeps spreading.

“Dinner” itself was a whole adventure. A plethora of options had been laid out in front of him, none that he was familiar with and he hadn’t known where to start, taking his cues from Nathan instead. Yes,  _ Nathan. _ Shorter. Easier. Rolls off the tongue.

Two sticks made out of not-wood he couldn’t use properly, and Nathan had laughed as he tried to imitate. Not unkindly, at least. Fond, maybe, his eyes gentle around the corners. To the person behind him, he requested, “Can we get a fork?”

A “fork” turned out to be a piece of shiny material with four prongs. Easier to use certainly, but his coordination had been abysmal, only marginally better than with the two sticks.

There hadn’t been any adverse effect with the first bite. A little braver, he had tried the others as well, and then his life changed irrevocably. He had gone for it again and again, can’t get enough, the sensation and taste in his mouth a near miracle, until Nathan chuckled and asked him casually, “You really like the beef, huh?”

Shoma had looked up then, remembering Nathan was there and nodded excitedly in reply, unable to keep the grin off his face.

“Yeah, it’s really good,” Nathan added goodnaturedly. “Maybe eat some vegetables too,” he had teased.

Shoma had cocked his head in question, and Nathan had pointed to one of the other options. He plopped it into his mouth without thought, trusting Nathan to guide him, and immediately grimaced, displeasure written all over his face as he chokes down a gag. He didn’t spit it out but that was only barely.

When Nathan laughed again, Shoma felt betrayed and it must have played on his face because Nathan’s face did this weird thing where it softened. “You should still eat it because it’s good for you but I’m not going to make you.”

Without pause Shoma had pushed this “vegetable” as far away from him as possible.

\----

From one mindless activity to the next, never a step too far away from Nathan, Shoma closes his eyes and forgets to open them. Losing himself in unconsciousness only to open them to an unfamiliar surrounding encasing him. He’s groggy, tired, barely wants to move when he’s laying atop something so  _ soft  _ but then he  _ remembers. _

He doesn’t panic right away. Instead he closes his eyes and focuses. As long as Nathan isn’t too far his magic will answer his call. Sure enough he feels it tugging at his chest, leading him through the door and to another not too far away. He gives the handle a twist but unlike all the other doors he’s encountered with Nathan so far this one doesn’t turn, stays stubbornly unmoved. He tries again. Same result.

_ Now _ he panics. He keeps twisting foolishly thinking this one will open the door for sure, slipping into annoyance when it doesn’t, and then frantic as he uses more strength to try and force the door open.

When he’s just about lost all hope, that damn water filling his eyesight again, the door gives and pulls away. In front of him Nathan stands, eyes blinking blearily, the curls atop his head a chaotic mess.

“Shoma?” Nathan asks groggily. “What’s up?”

Shoma can’t help it. An emotional outburst for sure. Very uncharacteristic of him but he chalks it up to a harrowing day. He throws himself into Nathan’s arms, linking his own right around Nathan’s chest, thankful to have him tangible and within reach.

Nathan soothingly runs his hand down Shoma’s back, one runthrough after the other for an underdetermined amount of time, standing there and letting Shoma work through whatever he was going through even if he didn’t understand, waiting for Shoma to pull back first.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I get you maybe have some separation anxiety after what happened but I can’t- you can’t sleep in my room with me.”

_ Why? _ he wants to ask, pleads for an answer with his eyes.

“I didn’t know you before today,” he explains patiently. “You’re  _ literally _ a stranger, Shoma, and it wouldn’t be proper because--” deep breath, “--I have a fiance.”

Shoma tilts his head to one side, his brow furrowed in another question.

“Someone I’m supposed to marry. Well, not just someone. They’re the prince of Japan, you know? It wouldn’t be proper and people will talk and-” deep breath as if to calm himself, “They helped me so much.”

Shoma stands frozen for a time for a beat, unsure. He had nurtured some hope that maybe, while Nathan was sleeping, he could sneak in and be gone before daylight breaks but something on Nathan’s face, like he was tired, like he was pleading with Shoma to understand, had him confused, conflicted.

Still, a hand works through Shoma’s hair, ruffling it while he promises Shoma, “I’ll be right here the whole night. And I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

And-

Yeah…

Okay.

Nothing he can do...

Nathan walks him back to his room, giving Shoma one last reassuring smile and a _good night_ as Shoma slowly closes the door.


	3. Chapter 3

The previous few days had been quiet, peaceful. They settled into a slow pattern of watching tv sometimes when Nathan felt particularly lazy, introducing Shoma to a game or two because, at the crux of it, Nathan is  _ still _ a teenager. He’d brought out his guitar a time or two as well, when his fingers felt itchy, and tried not to laugh at the face Shoma made every time his fingers plucked at the strings. He’d thought it strange how everything seemed so new to Shoma, like he was discovering it for the first time. Like that first walk they took down an easy trail north of the villa. Shoma’s head couldn’t stop swiveling every few seconds.

Now, as they’re driving to Tokyo, it’s a repeat of the day on the beach all over again. Shoma is trepidatious, fingers leaving smudged prints on the window as the villa faded away. Nathan doesn’t ask Shoma if he wants to stay. It’s not his place to offer but even if he did, he doesn’t think Shoma would.

Kenji had scoured the local newspapers but no missing persons reported, no news of anyone searching for someone matching Shoma’s description either, and Nathan doesn’t know how to feel about that. Either Shoma has no one or he doesn’t have anyone who cared enough to realize he was gone.

He’s a little lost sometimes, like a puppy, bright, wide eyes everywhere he turns. More often than not he’s confused by the simplest of things too, but he’s so  _ good. _

Yuzuru is good too, and kind, had offered him Suzaki Villa without a second thought, without a whole cohort of other minders and teachers when he’d sensed how the city and the seemingly endless lessons before he even had time to collect his bearings had been dragging Nathan down.

“A break is good,” he had said to Nathan early that morning over breakfast a week ago. “Mental break is sometimes needed to cleanse.”

Nathan had felt grateful, and taken the train out along with Kenji later that same afternoon.

But bringing Shoma home isn’t the same as bringing a lost stray cat home. No, Yuzuru  _ loves _ cats, would probably fawn over it so much more than Nathan ever could and adopt it as his own. He just hoped that Yuzuru’s kindness would extend to Shoma as well.

\----

It’s with dread that he steps back onto the royal palace’s ground, the nerves eating him from inside out. Telling Yuzuru about Shoma isn’t something he can put off and do later, so even as the rest of the royal staff welcome him back with a spark of curiosity in their eyes at the boy who trailed behind him, he asks the head of the group, one of the few who speaks English, Ryusei, “Where’s Yuzu?”

“Yuzuru-sama is in the ice rink,” he says, his eyes kept below Nathan’s as always. It’s the correct thing to do, Nathan knows, but he still hasn’t gotten used to it, discomfort prickling in his spine.

“Cool,” he says. “Can I join?”

Ryusei hesitates, but then says to him, “Nathan-sama, you have been given blanket permission to use the ice rink whenever you would like whether Yuzuru-sama is in the rink or not.” An answer that’s not really an answer. Beating around the bush as his father would say, but still true in this situation, Nathan thought, and so very Japanese. He never really knows how to make heads or tails of these answers, never knows what’s right or wrong or what the implicit underlying message is.

Either way, does it really matter now? He’d rather get it over with, and if Yuzuru says no… if he says no Nathan will figure out something else.

They make a quick stop to Nathan’s room where he pulls out a sweater for himself and one for Shoma, and when Shoma stares at him per his usual M.O. Nathan tugs it on for him.

“We’re gonna go meet Yuzu,” he starts as they begin their trek. “Pretty much everything is his. I mean, I guess it’ll be kind of mine someday too? Or more like it’ll be his sister’s and we mooch off of her I guess, but he’s also got a ton of his own money. They gave him his own ice rink when he was five.  _ Five. _ Can you believe that?”

Shoma doesn’t answer but he tilts his head again with that furrowed brow Nathan’s learned is him trying to work out what Nathan is saying.

“It’s just ridiculously expensive, is all,” he continues saying. “The upkeep is kinda insane but I think Yuzu has them open it up to kids in the public when no one is using it. He’s a cool guy.”

It takes about ten minutes to get to the rink through the very,  _ very  _ \--  _ on pain of death _ \-- secret underground passageway. They come out somewhere secluded in the back of the rink, a private locker room only he and Yuzuru use. Saya used to, Yuzuru told him the first time he brought Nathan here, but she has too much responsibility now and not enough time in the day.

He puts on a brave face as they approach the entrance to the ice, Shoma a step behind him. Still so timid, Nathan thinks, but for now it’s good. It’s better, actually, that Yuzuru sees him first. And see him Yuzuru does. He’d been doing easy stroking from one end of the rink to the other, it looks like, with someone else.  _ How strange _ flickered quickly through his mind. All the time he’d come here and seen Yuzuru, not once had Yuzuru ever been with someone else.  _ Three _ someones at that, the other older man watching them, and when they get close to him Yuzuru slows down, says something to him before he breaks from the bunch and skates towards Nathan.

Funny, he thought. That looks like- No. No way. Is that-

Five time reigning European Champion, two-time World Champion-

“Javier Fernandez?” he sputters out loud enough that everyone hears, Javi letting out an easy laugh. Nathan  _ would _ be embarrassed except he’s still in shock.

Yuzuru skids to a halt in front of Nathan and welcomes him with a smile.

“I train with Javi and Brian coach every summer. July and August. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you since you also like Javi so much.”

And he does. He  _ does. _ Javier Fernandez is literally the best right now. No one can touch him. Maybe Patrick Chan at his prime.  _ Maybe.  _ But it was definitely inevitable once Javier Fernandez started improving those PC’s.

Oh God, he’s having a fanboy moment, isn’t he? Say something!

He forces out a laugh and it sounds rough even to his ear. “Yeah,” he chokes out. “Nice surprise. Can I really skate with him?”

“Of course,” Yuzuru offers easily. “Maybe you can also do some training with us. Brian and Tracy will not mind.”

He’s riding high, a grin splitting his face, and then he comes crashing down when something catches Yuzuru’s eye, his curiosity sparking as he leans to the side to see around Nathan. He feels Shoma shift behind him, hiding further from view the more Yuzuru leans to catch a better glimpse. Nathan moves, protecting Shoma with his body. Not that he thinks Shoma needs protecting but maybe, hopefully, it’ll make Shoma feel better.

Clearing his throat to capture Yuzuru’s attention again, he asks, “Can we talk?”

Yuzuru’s gaze jerks back to him and he straightens. “Yes. In private?”

Nathan nods and Yuzuru, probably intuitively sensing he needs a moment alone with Shoma, tells him. “I tell Brian I need ten minute break. Then we can talk.”

When Yuzuru is gone, he turns around to face Shoma. “I’m gonna need to talk to him alone, okay?” There’s apprehension. He sees it clear as a sunny day on Shoma’s face and he opens his mouth to reassure Shoma again, another reminder that he promised not to leave Shoma behind, only for Shoma to nod before he could.

He’s kind of shocked, to be honest. His own face must be doing something funny because Shoma’s mouth breaks into a wide grin and his shoulders shake like he’s laughing at Nathan.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, nudging Shoma’s shoulder although he’s not sure what he’s reacting to. Maybe he’s just happy that they’ve made a breakthrough of some sort, that Shoma trusts him enough to come back. He leads Shoma over to where there are a few benches and says to him, “Stay here until I get back.” Shoma nods a few times to acknowledge he understood before turning to the ice with curious eyes that melt into awe as Javier Fernandez does a quad salchow. Yeah, those quads are beautiful, unbeatable, some of the best.

They talk in the private locker room, propped by the lockers opposite each other.

Nathan starts first. “His name is Shoma.”

“Who is he?” Yuzuru asks but it’s not unkind, signaling he’s open to hearing Nathan out.

“Yeah. Not sure what his last name is or where his family is or if he even has family. He doesn’t talk,” he provides when Yuzuru’s forehead crinkle in confusion. “He kind of… saved me.”

“Saved you?”

“Yeah, there was a little tsunami, a couple meters high, a little more maybe. I was just being dumb and didn’t see it coming.”

Immediately Yuzuru pushes himself off the lockers, his face morphing from confusion to concern. “Oh my gods, Nathan. Are you okay?”   
  
“Yeah,” he reassures. “Yeah, I’m okay. Shoma saved me.”

He watches Yuzuru relax, a relieved hand over his heart, and a warm feeling spreads in his chest. Yuzuru cares about him. He really does. Maybe not romantically, not yet but then he doesn’t either. But as a friend at least, as a friend he cares for Nathan.

Yuzuru doesn’t beat around the bush, instead he asks point blank, “You want him to stay with us?”

His eyes dip below Yuzuru’s, looking somewhere just over his shoulder. “Yeah. He has nowhere to go.”

He doesn’t know what he expected, but definitely not the easy, “Okay,” that comes.

“Okay?” he echoes.

Yuzuru nods. “Okay. Let’s go. I want to meet him.”

Shoma is on the ice when they get back, skates on, his hands held by Javier Fernandez who’s skating backwards as he leads a Shoma who can’t stop staring down at his feet. Yuzuru is quicker, sets off in their direction the second his blade connects, and Nathan hears, “Shoma~! Oh my god you’re so cute! I’m Yuzu,” as Yuzuru starts fussing over him.

\----

Nathan is barely gone when one of the other persons on the ice approaches Shoma, comes to a screeching halt before he hangs himself over the side the next second, relaxed and smooth in a way that he’s never seen Nathan. Handsome too. Very, very handsome, enough so that Shoma feels his face warming hot under his friendly gaze.

“Hi,” the man says to him with a bright grin, blinding almost. He’s so different from Nathan but still Shoma finds himself opening up tentatively. “I’m Javi,” he says. “Javier Fernandez, but call me Javi. Are you a friend?”

Shoma shakes his head no.

“Well we can be friends now. What’s your name?”

Shoma frowns, sad that he’s unable to introduce himself, miming at his throat in hopes Javi can understand.

“Ah,” he says. “That’s okay. You want to skate with me?”

At the offer Shoma nods excitedly. He’d caught a glimpse of them earlier hidden behind Nathan, the way they flowed and glided across the ice effortlessly. They looked so beautiful, and the way Javi jumped and spun before, it was almost magical. 

“You don’t have skates?”

Another shake of his head.

Javi points to somewhere behind him. “I think they keep the rentals over there. Grab one and then join us.”

Shoma does as he's told, feeling the back of his neck prickling the longer he looks trying to find one he thinks might work for him. He takes out a foot to compare since Nathan’s shoes -- ones with a swoop on the sides of them -- are too big for him, loose and barely tied together. He goes back to sit down, slips them both on, and ties them the way he remembers Nathan doing for him.

When he looks back up Javi shakes his head a little, forehead wrinkled in concern. “Hey, you have to lace them tighter otherwise they’ll just come right off and you might get hurt. You’ve never done this before, have you?”

_ No _ he shakes his head to say.

“Okay, hold on.”

Javi glides around the edge, hops off the ice, and walks over to Shoma. He bends down, undoes the lacing, and when he ties them back up, Shoma feels them tight over his feet and ankles. He commits the feel of it to memory so that when he does this again he won’t need help.

“C’mon,” Javi urges when he’s done, and Shoma follows behind him excitedly, can’t wait to get on the ice.

It’s kind of a disaster the moment he does. The moment he steps on the ice he goes down, his whole body practically plopping. A merry laugh makes its way into his ears and Shoma again feels his face turning hot. He looks down, embarrassed until Javi offers him a friendly hand.

“Here, I help you.”

He helps Shoma up, makes sure Shoma is as steady as he can be on his feet, and doesn’t let go of Shoma’s hands. Shoma watches his feet inch across the ice on jelly-like legs, knees perpetually bent to try and balance himself. When Javi starts to let go he immediately panics, clutching at Javi’s hands to say,  _ Don’t let go _ and Javi squeezes his hands back, silently telling him,  _ okay, I won’t. _

It goes on for another few minutes, Shoma starting to get the hang of how the ice feels underneath his feet when an almost terrifying, “Shoma~!” comes from nowhere, followed by, “Oh my god you’re so cute! I’m Yuzu,” before he has an armful of said Yuzu squishing him. Over his shoulder, he locks eyes with Nathan, eyes wide in horror and asking for help only to receive none.  _ Betrayal, _ he thinks bitterly, before Yuzu pulls away, his hands gripping Shoma’s shoulders and grinning down at him.

“Nathan says you are staying with us.”

“Nathan?” Javi asks. “I take it he’s the other guy?”

Yuzu falters and Shoma senses how tense his body has become, one moment relaxed, the next stiff and tight. Still, when he turns away from Shoma to give his attention back to Javi, he plasters on a smile. “Yeah, Nathan.”

The air around them is heavy with something Shoma does not understand and thanks the deities when Nathan finally joins them.

“Hi, I’m Nathan Chen,” he says while offering his hand, his mouth split so wide Shoma is sure it must hurt.

“Javier Fernandez,” Javi says, slotting his hand into Nathan’s.

“I know,” comes out in the next breath, soon followed by a rapidly reddening Nathan who’s unable to look anyone in the eye much less Javi but still trying to seem unaffected. “I’m- I- I’m a big fan.”

Shoma watches enraptured as Javi’s whole face lights up. “Thanks. Maybe we can be friends?”

“Yeah?” It’s the first time Shoma sees Nathan like this.  _ Young. _ Like him. Younger too, probably.

Javi shrugs. “Sure. Shoma and I are already friends, aren’t we, Shoma?”

Shoma nods as he’s supposed to, and this time it’s Nathan who lights up. “Yeah, okay.”

“How do you know Yuzu? Are you friends? Yuzu never tells me about his other friends. He says he has none but I think he just likes to be a mystery.”

With that the mood dips again and a shared look between Nathan and Yuzu Shoma has no hope of understanding and doesn’t bother to. Javi is different, though, watching the two of them intently for any clue.

At last, it’s Nathan who speaks. “Yeah. Friends.”

Neither of them look at Javi even as Yuzu nods. Shoma doesn’t think he believes them as he watches a million other thoughts seemingly cross Javi’s eyes. But then he shrugs and lets it go, doesn’t push, and the next moment an older man is clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay. Javi? Yuzu? Let’s get back to training. You’re not weaseling out of it today, Javi.”

“Aww, Brian. It’s so nice out. Think, we can go have a nice meal, some sightseeing.”

Yuzu’s laugh is closer to being genuine. “Javi, stop being bad. We have to train now. Olympics is already coming so soon!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javi grumbles, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes and his mouth when he looks at Yuzu.

“Tracy?”

The older man doesn’t need to finish his thoughts as the lone woman in the group takes hold of Shoma’s hands. “Yes, Brian. I’ll see what I can do with this one.”

“Hi Shoma,” she says to him, a motherly kindness in her voice that makes him suddenly miss his own mother terribly. “I’m Tracy. That crabby old man is Brian. Forgive him. Javi and Yuzu are testing him today.”

Beside him Nathan lets out a chuckle. “I’m Nathan.”

“Nice to meet you, Nathan. Are you going to be with us or you going to be with Yuzu and Javi?”

One of Nathan’s hands flies to the back of his neck, rubbing there nervously. “Umm...”

Maybe Tracy has magical powers, Shoma thinks, because she seems to understand everyone even though they don’t say anything. “Why don’t you stay with us, sweetie? I think I might need your help with this one.”

He directs at her  _ Are you a mermaid?  _ with the full strength of his mind and is disappointed when she doesn't reply. Maybe something else. He's heard about wood nymphs, stories passed down from generations ago when their people were more free and could linger together. He tries hard to sense her magic and finds none. Maybe her magic is the type he can’t sense, the kind that hides away. Rare as it is it does exist.

A nervous laugh from Nathan jarrs him back. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. Just- you know- I can’t believe-  _ Javier Fernandez. _ I’ve, like, embarrassed myself enough around him today.”

Tracy laughs. “Oh honey,” she says. “Don’t worry. By the end of the week the shine will fade away. Trust me.”

Nathan looks doubtful but he nods anyway and then he turns to Shoma, “You ready to learn?”

He’d been ready, he wants to say.  _ It’s you weird humans with your weird…  _ **whatever** _ holding things up. _

Nathan eyes him, unimpressed. “Don’t give me that look.”

_ What look? _

“I know what you’re doing.”

He widens his eyes, tilts his head a little innocently.

“Argh. Okay. Fine.”

He grins at Nathan, gloating in his victory.


	4. Chapter 4

Shoma had hoped when it began that it’d only been the skating lessons. Remnants of work and movement his body and muscles were not used to doing to generate the speed needed to propel himself, but that hope had been false. The feeling was strange, yes, but the resistance of air and sharp, thin metal riding on ice is nothing compared to water. No, this is him drying out. It’s been too long and he needs to transform, needs a good long soak in water with his tail, hours  _ at least  _ if not a full day or he risks drying out irreparably. His magic protects him, slows down the process, but it only lasts so long. It’s been… it’s been seven days since he’d walked on land with legs and hadn’t soaked with his tail once.

Just… he didn’t want to risk it, especially once they came here. This place is still so new and constantly buzzing, the whole place atwitter and he didn’t want to be walked in on, especially since every free moment Yuzu wasn’t on ice or with Javi or at some event he was intent on following Shoma around like Shoma was a brand new flounder he wanted to play with all the time. He couldn’t chance it. Even the few times he wasn’t with Nathan during the day there was always someone around wiping at nothing or cooking or cleaning or just… waiting for him to need something. Or  _ worse, _ what if someone already suspects? What if they’d been watching him and waiting for their opportunity?

A little paranoid? Maybe. But he has no one.  _ No one. _ Nathan pops into his head then, his big, stupid grin, his earnest brown eyes and words promising Shoma so easily that he’s going to protect him, and, damn him, Shoma wants to push the thought away, clamp it down and hide it away because humans can’t be trusted but the truth is that, at the end of the day, he  _ does _ trust Nathan. He trusts Nathan because so far Nathan has kept his word.

Perhaps he should tell Nathan, try to explain himself and ask for his magic back, and then he could go on his merry way, but something in him coiled back with all the warnings the elders gave him when he’d been but a small fry and he settles back on  _ no. _ At least, not yet. Not now. Trust is fragile, and trust can easily be betrayed.

One ear pressed against the door, he listens for any signs of someone near, the creak of footsteps against the now too familiar wood, opens his mind to the vibrations of footsteps, his feet feeling like shark teeth are piercing through them. When he hears nothing, feels nothing he opens the door, wincing it creaks and he immediately freezes. The air remains quiet around him. Barely breathing he eases the door open just enough for him to get through, quietly closing the door behind himself, and tiptoes it to the bathroom, the one with the tub he can fill water in. Each step he takes is more painful than the last, tears building up in his eyes and spilling over, his bottom lip caught between his teeth where they bite so hard that he tastes blood on his tongue.

Finally having made it he locks the door, sheds his clothes, jumps into the tub where at least the lack of pressure also lessened the pain, and turns on the water. Just a small trickle so as to not make too much noise lest someone hears and comes to investigate. When the water fills enough to cover his legs he calls forth his tail. Slowly his skin shifts, his scales returning in all their red toned blue glory, a cascade that starts slow at his hips and then accelerates to almost instantaneous once his legs have fully joined back together to form his tail. The moment the transformation is complete he falls back onto the tub, his entire body relaxing, limp and pain free, tamping down the moan that threatens to spill over as finally,  _ finally, _ his body unclenches.

After a while he adjusts a little, stretching out his tail and flipping it from side to side, admiring it in awe. He hadn’t known how much he’d miss it. Legs are fine but his tail is a part of him. A minor wave is created, generated by him carelessly flipping his tail, some water splashing onto the ground with a seemingly thunderous thwap around the tub and Shoma holds his breath, instantly alert, waiting and ready to transform back in an instant and make a run for it if he has to. Nothing to worry about though, and, hearing nothing in the vicinity, he returns to relaxing, flipping his tail in the water once in a while but careful not to spill water over the edge again.

The water calms him, heals and soothes away any remaining phantom aches, singing him to sleep when he submerges entirely so as to quicken the healing process.

\----

It’s not unusual for Shoma to still be sleeping when Nathan gets up in the morning, considering Nathan is usually up by seven, eight sometimes when he stays up too late and he needs the extra rest. It’s early even for Yuzuru who is usually only up by nine because his assistant wakes him up to go over the day’s schedule. He’d seen it aplenty over breakfast, Yuzuru groggily wiping away sleep while his schedule gets read to him. But when nine o’clock comes and goes, and ten flies by with Yuzuru off to some planned luncheon with some diplomat or other and then eleven Nathan starts to worry. Near twelve he decides it’s time to check on Shoma, gingerly opening Shoma’s door and peeking in knowing Shoma never locks it.

“Shoma?” he calls out tentatively but gets no reply. He enters, soft on his feet in case Shoma really is that tired, only to realize there’s no one underneath the lump of blankets on the bed and panics. A quick once over of the room finds Shoma nowhere in sight and he exits the room quickly.

“Shoma,” he calls out in the hallway, louder this time. Nothing. Calm down, he tells himself even as his heart rate speeds. Think this through logically. Just because he seeks Nathan out every morning prior doesn’t mean this morning would be the same. Maybe he’s more comfortable now, going out and doing things on his own. Yuzuru loves him so much already, dotes on him, lets him do anything he wants, dragging him to all the different parts of the palace. Not that Yuzuru limits where Nathan is allowed. Yuzuru had told him that first day,  _ this is your home now too. _

Still, Nathan doesn’t get dragged around like Shoma does. Yuzuru is different with Shoma. There’s a different type of affection there that makes Nathan fond instead of jealous. Not that he would be, or had the right to be even. Just… yeah, no. Let’s not go down that road.

Okay, so the past week there’s only been two places Shoma spends his time: the ice rink and Yuzuru’s elaborate garden where he likes to hang among the scent of the flowers. He goes to view the garden first because it’s closer, and when he can’t spot Shoma with a quick cursory glance from the second story he heads to the rink next, quicker on his feet this time. There’s no one there, save the caretaker and a few staff members who are preparing the rink for a public open.

Back in the palace he asks, as casually as he can, if any of the household staff has seen Shoma, and with each shake of their head worry clenches around Nathan’s chest, a slow strangle starting. In their wing again, last ditch effort, he starts room by room, leaving all the doors open, calling out for Shoma and hoping that he’ll answer. Maybe he should have just done this first.

Finally, second to the last door in this hallway, on the ground floor, when Nathan twists the knob the lock catches and he breathes out a sigh of relief. He raps his knuckles against the wood. “Shoma?”

He raps harder when he receives no response. “You okay?”

He hears a splash of water and then, after a minute or two, the door finally opens, Shoma blinking up owlishly at him, his hair damp and askew with his pajamas on.

“I was looking for you,” he says by way of explanation. “Were you in here this whole time? For hours?”

Shoma shrinks from the question, shoulders hunched making him seem smaller than he already is. He won’t look Nathan in the eye even as he nods, his gaze not on the floor but away, slightly to the left. Before Nathan is fully aware of anything beyond the subtle tug at his heartstring he has a hand on Shoma’s cheek, cradling the side of his face. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I was just worried.”

Nathan sees the nod but Shoma’s face doesn’t change, meaning he doesn’t quite believe Nathan. He uses his other hand, cups the other side of Shoma’s face and guides him until they’re looking eye to eye. “Hey, for real.”

Shoma  _ really _ looks at him this time, his eyes shifting back and forth all over Nathan’s face, searching for the truth probably, and relaxes into Nathan when he finds no lie, wounding his arms around Nathan’s waist and hey, it’s their first actual hug. It’s… it’s nice. Feels good.

He looks past Shoma and to the tub, sees it still mostly filled, and an idea takes over. “You like being in water that much?”

Shoma nods against him.

“You wanna try out Yuzu's pool after lunch?”

Yuzuru’s pool turns out to be a great idea. Unlike the ice where it’d been foreign to Shoma, Shoma swims in the pool like that’s what he’d been born to do the moment he jumps in. He pokes his head out, grinning widely at Nathan, and Nathan waves from where he’s seated by the edge of the pool, his legs dipped into the water.

One end to the other, Shoma flips and turns, kicking his legs back and forth, his body cutting cleanly through the water. When Shoma pops out again by Nathan, still grinning, Nathan says to him, offhandedly, “Wow, you can really hold your breath, huh?”

Shoma nods excitedly and then, without warning, Shoma drags him down by the arm. He comes back up sputtering water, his curls soaked and hanging low, obscuring his view, but can’t even be mad when Shoma looks so pleased with himself.

\----

Tracy was wrong. By the end of the fourth week Javi still shines every inch as brightly as he did that first day. From lazy skating around the rink easy in conversation with Yuzuru to that famous quad salchow, Nathan can’t help being as awestruck as he’d been that first day. His back and neck are so straight and he makes it look so effortless every time Nathan feels like all the air has been zapped out of his lungs. Even when he falls it’s spectacular if somewhat a little worrying.

He’s gotten better at hiding it at least. Or well, maybe everyone is very kind and pretends they don’t see the stars in his eyes. Okay, mostly everyone because Shoma is  _ still _ looking at Nathan like he’s judging him.

He’s put on the defensive. “It’s normal,” he says.

Per usual, Shoma says nothing, but the slight quirk of his mouth and the leer in his eyes tell Nathan he isn’t buying it.

“It’s normal!” he insists. “Like he’s  _ Javier Fernandez, _ okay? You’ve seen others skate. They don’t even come close!”   
  
Shoma tilts his head, his giveaway signal of confusion.

“Shoma, you  _ have _ seen other skaters before, right?”

A shake of his head.

“Not in real life like Javi,” Nathan clarifies. “Like on Youtube?”

Shoma shakes his head again, slower this time, eyes widening like  _ there are other skaters? _

“I’ll show you later. Fair warning, you started off spoiled.”

Again, the disbelieving look like everything Nathan says is brand new to him. Nathan’s really going to have to fix that.

At the other end of the rink Yuzuru breaks free from Javi, another tickling match out of the dozens he’s witnessed across the ice that leaves Yuzuru laughing breathlessly, and beelines it for Shoma, hands already up and ready to paw at Shoma’s face the moment he’s close enough. Javi is not far behind, coming to a full stop with shaved ice splattering across Nathan’s shin.

“Little Shoma,” Yuzuru says, cupping his face and squishing Shoma’s cheeks fondly. “You want to come skate with me? We can do tiny jumps. One spin. Maybe two. You learn very fast. Tracy say so.”

Shoma goes with Yuzuru excitedly, hardly giving Nathan a backward glance so that means-

That means he’s left alone with Javier Fernandez. Javi.  _ Javi, _ he reiterates to himself. He’s allowed to because Javi said he could. Because they’re  _ friends. _ What is his life, really? When he stops to think about it in the middle of the night, all alone in his bed, he has to wonder. Betrothed to a prince. Picked up a lost duckling. Friends with one of his most favorite athletes, and not just in the casual friend of a friend of a friend way. They’re  _ actually friends. _

Javi’s waving hand in front of his face snaps him back to reality. “Nathan? You okay?”

He clears his throat before he speaks. “I’m okay.”

“Good, good. Since those two run off together, just me and you? You wanna do some laps together?”

“Yes,” he says in a rush, the word out before he can fully think about it.

“Great. I will follow. Maybe give you some pointers if you like. Okay? Don’t be scared to lean on your edges. If you fall it’s okay. All part of the process like Brian says. But you are a good skater so I think you’ll be okay.”

Doesn’t matter if he’s grinning like an idiot the entire time they make their three laps for everyone to see. Javier Fernandez thinks  _ he’s _ a good skater.

When they’re done they hang back by the sides, watching Shoma attempt another single jump.

“Yuzu say you used to skate.”

“Yeah,” he says after a swallow of water. “Junior circuit. I quit before turning senior.”

“Why?” Javi asked, genuinely interested in the answer. “You could be a really good skater if you continue.”

Nathan shrugs, looking down at his water bottle, peeling off the paper label as a reason not to look at Javi. He should get reusable ones for him and Shoma. Help the environment a little, especially if they’re going to keep coming to the rink. And the pool too. The gardens are great but the pool has taken over as Shoma’s second favorite spot.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it’s just figure skating. I love it but like there are other things I could do in my life, you know?” It hits him what he’s just said and who he just said it too, and panics. “I mean not that figure skating isn’t important or anything. What you do is important especially for Spain and stuff, and you’re helping elevate your country and everything with all you do so like super awesome and important. You’re the first from Spain, you know? Do to  _ anything. _ But me? I’d be like the fiftieth American so I’d just be covering old grounds.”

When he looks up again Javi is grinning at him, easy and lighthearted. Kind, just like all the stories he’s heard through the years.

“I think you’d be awesome at anything you do,” he says, and Nathan shifts, relaxing back into his body, but then a pivot in the conversation -- How  _ do _ you know Yuzu? -- and he’s back to not making eye contact.

Nathan doesn’t know if it’s his place to say. Surely Yuzuru would want to, but Javi’s eyes are looking at him expectantly, and Nathan finds himself letting it out there. “I’m Yuzu’s fiance.”

With that the easy camaraderie they’d been sharing fades away. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A warm hand on Nathan’s shoulder settles on Nathan’s shoulder sooner than later so that’s good at least. Or so he thinks until he sees the smile that accompanies the gesture. The smile Javi gives doesn’t quite reach his eyes, some of the warmth Nathan has become accustomed to seeing has dimmed. There’s also a hollow “congrats” that’s trying its hardest to be genuine. Something fundamental has shifted. What, Nathan doesn’t know, but he senses it rippling around all of them.


	5. Chapter 5

There’s an air of sadness around Yuzuru that seems to have started earlier in the week only to have culminated and peaked now that it’s Javi’s last day with them. They’re all on the ice, Javi and Yuzuru together, him and Shoma. Brian and Tracy had left some minutes before after sharing handshakes with Nathan, nodding at Javi, and hugging Shoma and Yuzuru. Javi had stayed behind, skating about the ice lazily until Yuzuru was done saying goodbye.

It’s not unusual for a session to end this way, minus that day or two after he’d spilled about their betrothal to Javi. Javi had pulled away from Yuzuru then, a little, the same but not quite, a wall erected between them that seemed to chafe and put Yuzuru on edge. Nathan had apologized only for Yuzuru to wave it off, blaming himself.

“I should have said.” Quietly, mostly to himself. “Javi deserve to hear from me and it is my fault I keep not telling.”

Nathan doesn't know how they made up or even if they did. Maybe they just moved on. Set to be married or not, there are parts of Yuzuru’s life Nathan will never know or understand and he’s starting to realize Javi is a part of that.

Shoma and Nathan have already said their goodbyes to Javi with hugs and promises to show them Madrid if they ever come to Spain. Nathan is shy still and awkward and will probably always be a little starstruck but Javi takes it in stride, claps Nathan on the back twice and gives him a real smile like a true friend. He’s a true friend to Shoma too, who doesn’t get claps on his back like Nathan but instead his whole face cradled in Javi’s big hands.

“Shoma-kun,” he had said fondly. “Keep practicing. You are so good. You are the best at feeling the music here.” He had lifted a hand, knocking his knuckles against Shoma’s heart. Shoma had nodded, diving right back into a hug, easily affectionate with Javi in a way that took Nathan longer to earn than the Spaniard. Yuzuru is different, of course. Whether wanted or not, Yuzuru throws his affection unendingly at Shoma who has no other choice but to accept it as it comes.

Nathan isn’t dumb. When they’re watching Javi skate for the umpteenth time on Youtube -- Shoma never tires of watching Javi’s programs on loop -- he sees how Shoma’s emotions flit from awe to something more, something giddy. And the blushes too, when Javi lavishes him with attention. Nathan knows a crush when he sees one, and he wishes his chest didn’t burn so hot and tight. It’s not jealousy. He’s  _ not _ jealous.

And Javi is right. If Nathan is jealous of anything, he’s jealous of the fact that Shoma picked up skating so easily. He remembers when he’d been learning, how hard those triples had been to learn not to mention the quads. Fall after fall to learn the right timing, and even then he needed to fall more to gain consistency. Shoma isn’t perfect at his jumps yet and it’s not like he’s doing triples, but his skating, the speed he’s willing to push himself to, how it crests and ebbs away like it’s hypnotizing Nathan into following, how he leans into those edges, deep and carefree in a way Nathan never could, it’s like Shoma was fearless. His intensity too, the short one minute easy choreography snippet Tracy had done for Shoma after they had first watched Javi’s runthrough with David Wilson, who’d flown in to teach Javi his new programs in a rare occasion Yuzuru hadn’t been there. Shoma had tugged at Tracy’s jacket then, catching her attention.

After she had patted his head, he had pointed at Javi and then to himself, and that seemed to be enough for Tracy, who asked him, “Would you also like to have a little program too?”

Nathan is caught up in watching it now, in watching  _ Shoma, _ taking in the way Shoma moves easily across the ice, enraptured by the joy he sees and unable to look away.

\----

Flying across the ice is an experience Shoma has never had before, and now that he knows how it feels he’s not sure how he’ll give it up when he has to go home. Maybe… maybe he can visit? Once in a while at least. Should be okay, right? If Nathan and Yuzu never find out the truth?

Pure joy fills his heart even when he’s only doing circles around the rink. It feels like freedom almost, like there’s nothing that can hold him back except Nathan’s hand slotted into his, warm and callused but in no way as rough as Javi’s. When Nathan holds his hand he feels grounded, feels tethered but not tied down, and his heart fills so much every time he’s sure it will burst. It never does, of course, and for that he’s thankful to the ocean goddesses for giving them strong enough hearts to withstand so much emotion.

He’s practicing the dance that Tracy made for him. It’s nothing like Javi’s and it’s much shorter to boot, but it gives him a goal, something to focus on and track his progress.

Suddenly, a spike of sadness so strong it cuts through him and stops him cold in his tracks. His attention jerks immediately to the source -- Yuzu -- and he sees, before him, Yuzu shaking his head quickly, clutching onto Javi’s shoulders as Javi’s own hands, one at an arm, the other holding his face, keeps him grounded.

“You can’t,” Yuzu chokes out, still shaking his head, his eyes shiny with tears. “Javi, you can’t.”

Javi leans into him, whispers something only Yuzu can hear close to his ear and Yuzu moves, his arms pushing forward along Javi’s neck, his forehead dropping to a rest on Javi’s right clavicle.

“You are so bad,” Shoma hears and maybe in another universe there’d be some humor there, trying to uplift the mood but not here, here Shoma only hears incalculable grief, sad little hiccups Yuzu attempts to swallow down. “Javi, you are so bad.”

Shoma is intrigued by the display in front of him, curious. He’d never seen anything like it before, and he’d certainly never experienced it either. Relationships in the sea are more transient, seasonal, come and gone from one to the next.

He feels then a hand on the small of his back. Warm, comforting, and he knows this touch as well as he would his own.  _ Nathan. _ He mutters next to Shoma’s ear, “How about we go to the pool?”

The pool is Shoma’s second favorite place even if it makes his skin smell weird. The water is always kept warm which is nice most times, helps keeps his muscles relaxed but it lulls him to sleep too easily, like a warm sunny day spent floating in the middle of the Pacific with the sea sprites chanting a lullaby into his ear. He’s taken to sneaking there in the middle of the night to let his tail loose when it begins to ache, pleading to be let out to soak. It’s nice too, being able to stretch his fins back and forth without being constrained in a tub.

Still, tempting as it is Shoma wants to say no. He wants to stay and observe, wants to figure out why Yuzu is crying so softly, like his soul is saying he’ll never stop but something in Nathan’s tone tells him he’s not suggesting but rather informing Shoma  _ we’re leaving them alone. _ So he nods and, as quietly as they could, they leave.

On the way back through the passageway he has seen no one from the public take, Nathan speaks. “I don’t know what that was.”

It’s his magic. Shoma’s that is. Nathan has no magic of his own, not like Yuzu who’s magic may be small and latent but still there for Shoma to sense. Not an elf or a nymph, no. Yuzu’s magic feels different, feels older by centuries, warm like the hint of sun on a nice spring day. There's no doubt in Shoma's mind it's why people are drawn to Yuzu and his family, and why they have been elevated. It’s Shoma’s magic telling Nathan what Shoma means at least, in feeling if not in words. It’s why Nathan understands him so well and why he sometimes answers questions seemingly out of nowhere. He probably doesn’t think about it twice and Shoma’s not sure if it’s because Nathan never questions too much, preferring to go with the river's flow, or rather it’s his own magic suppressing that urge in Nathan to question, to wonder so as to keep Shoma safe.

Nathan joins him in the pool when they get there without much fuss. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t, and sometimes Shoma swears Nathan is only waiting for Shoma to pull him in. It’s fun, the tugging back and forth that they do, and funny too that Nathan thinks he’s stronger than Shoma.

This time Nathan floats on his back, his whole body relaxed, his eyes closed, drifting along with the water, slipping into a daze. Shoma watches him from a short distance, chin and arms hooked over what Nathan has told him is an oversized noodle, and something lurches in his chest.

That keeps happening. More and more. Shoma is scared that the longer he stays here with Nathan the more he doesn’t want to go home. There’s just so much to learn, that’s all. Everything is new, every experience different. Like ramen. Noodles! A different kind from the pool ones, Nathan assures. He could go back home and teach the elders for a change, if he felt like it at least. What else can it be?

The thought of leaving Nathan behind when he goes back home doesn’t make him want to cry like Yuzu did, does it? His heart lurches painfully in his chest again, Shoma rubbing at it to ease some of the discomfort away.

He kicks his way to Nathan and brushes a foot along Nathan’s calves. One eye opens, looks at him, and then a grin spreads across Nathan’s lips. “You hungry?”

A grim line on his own mouth, he nods affirmative.

“Me too. Let’s go get sushi. It’s one of my favorites. I can’t believe I haven’t taken you out for sushi yet.”

Sushi. Sounds exciting.

\----

The excitement on Shoma’s face after their miso soup morphs into pure horror when the chef walks in with the fish he’s feeding them, some pre-cut into blocks already, like the tuna, some still whole.

“Shoma?” he asks tentatively, cautiously.

Shoma whips to him, his eyes burning so angry Nathan is taken aback by the ire, the contempt in them. Underneath all that though, a sense of betrayal, and then he’s up faster than Nathan can blink, fleeing their private room altogether.

“Sorry,” he tosses quickly to their bewildered chef before he chases after Shoma, only to have lost him in the crowd of a busy sidewalk. Panic lodges in his throat, chokes the air out of him. Shoma has never gone anywhere in this city without him before. He doesn’t have a phone either -- what’s the point when he can’t talk or read? -- but what if… what if he can’t find his way back? There’s so many people who would help but Shoma wouldn’t be able to communicate, and outside of Yuzuru and him, and Javi who takes the time to really listen, no one seems to understand Shoma like they do.

The panic builds, starts to overwhelm when something else inside urges him to calm down. Breathe.  _ Breathe. _ Not logic but something akin to intuition takes over even if Nathan had seldom believed in it before.  _ Close your eyes, _ it seems to say,  _ concentrate. _ So he does. One of the few times in life but what else did he have? Deep breath, eyes closed, white noise channelled out he follows his gut.

His feet lead him to the river where he finds Shoma sitting on the concrete steps, shaped and developed for the residents of Tokyo to perhaps one day slow down enough to enjoy the river once more. Or to wallow in their emotions like Shoma but with a can of beer in their hand, another or two by their feet.

From behind he sees the shape of Shoma, back and shoulders hunched, wiping angrily away at tears that though Nathan cannot see still makes his chest squeeze. He approaches carefully like Shoma is a wounded puppy ready to attack if spooked, silently sitting down next to him.

He takes one of Shoma’s hands into his, giving it a comforting squeeze, waiting for Shoma to either accept or reject their joined hands. In the end he doesn’t, choosing to stay but refusing to look at Nathan.

“Shoma,” he opens with. “I’m sorry. I just- I’m sorry. I really am. But I don’t get it.”

The eyes that meet his are wounded, red-rimmed and wary, but maybe what they say is true, that windows are the eyes to the soul because intuitively Nathan finally  _ does _ get it. “The fish are your friends.”

It’d be easy to say he’ll give it up. It’s just food after all. But the truth is they’d be nothing more than empty words and an even emptier promise. He  _ can’t _ give that to Shoma, and truth be told he doesn’t want to nor should he have to.

But he can… he can offer Shoma this at least. “When I eat sushi or fish, I won’t ever tell you if you never ask.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Shoma recoils immediately, shaking his hand off.

“Shoma!”

The ire is back tenfold. He’s on his feet and leaving already, and it may only be the second time but Nathan is getting damn tired of Shoma being like this. The least he could do was stay so they could work through this, right? He hates when people walk away. It solves nothing.

“Shoma!” He reaches out to stop Shoma, hand on his tense shoulder. Shoma stops for a moment, but then steps out of reach again, peeling Nathan’s hand off with surprisingly strong fingers.

“It’s food,” he tries, going for broke. “Everyone has their own preferences. You don’t eat fish and like, good for you. I’m not gonna stop you doing what you want but I don’t see why you not liking or eating fish has anything to do with what I do, you know? We haven’t really had any fish yet since you came with me and wow, that’s so weird, I wonder if it has anything to do with Yuzu, but like it’s a big deal here in Japan so I can talk to the chef and maybe we don’t have it or have something else for you.”

Shoma, jaw clenched, stubbornly refuses to so much as give him a glance and Nathan just… he deflates. Shoma won’t engage and he can’t force Shoma to. He can say all the words he wants, try to explain as best he can but it’s meaningless when Shoma refuses to listen.

He sighs, suddenly drained, tired to the bone. He runs a hand through his hair, clenching the roots near the back of his head and pulling a bit from frustration. “Fine. Let’s just go home.”

The ride back after Kenji picks them up, Shoma's gaze remains fixed out the window, the air between them arctic cold. When they get back to the palace Shoma jumps out first, not waiting for Nathan, toeing his shoes off quickly and beelining for his room, closing the door and not answering when Nathan knocks at it five minutes later.

\----

All of the following day he refuses to leave his room. Nathan knocked a few times for breakfast, for lunch, in between as well to check on him, to make sure he’s doing okay but Shoma hasn’t answered. At first he’d still been angry, burning hot from the night before, and then, as the day lagged on he hesitated, wasn’t sure how to, too embarrassed to face Nathan because… he was acting like a young, small fry, all instinct and emotional and not much thought.

Nathan was right. For the most part, pained as it is for him to admit it. It’s not… it’s not… up to him. What Nathan does, that is. He hated it too when he was told what to do by others, even if it was, in the end, for his own good. At least… at least Nathan had been kind about it -- like he’s been the entire time -- offering to never tell him at least. A white lie between the two of them to keep the peace.

If… if Nathan knocks again he’ll answer. He’ll answer, and maybe by then he’ll have worked up the courage for a proper apology.

When the knock comes, not soon enough but at least it comes, he’s up off his bed and on his way to the door in heartbeats, ready to swing the door open. Only the door opens before he gets there, and instead of Nathan, who he’d been hoping and expecting, Yuzu walks in.

“Little Shoma,” he says in greeting with a touch of a smile as Shoma prepares himself mentally to be pawed at and cooed over once again in the .03 seconds it takes Yuzu to close the gap between them. Yuzu does this quite often. Too much, actually, and he kind of hated it at first, hated being told he was cute and adorable and so tiny and, “look at those cheeks,” but after having resigned to it it’s kind of… comforting. In its own way.

And… possibly he lets Yuzu keep doing it too because there’s an air of sadness, an underlying current, that permeates from him. He hides it well, so well that no one seems to notice at all, least of all Nathan who is admittedly clueless a lot of the time. But when he paws at Shoma or dotes on him or pinches Shoma’s cheek or teases him --  _ anything _ \-- the sadness dissipates a little. If only for a while.

“Do you want to go shopping?”

He grimaces.  _ Not particularly.  _ This shopping doesn't sound fun at all. He can sense it already.

Undeterred, Yuzu pushes. “Come on. It’ll be fun. We need to get you clothes and your own shoes so you can stop wearing Nathan’s. They really are too big for you Shoma. You can get Nathan something to apologize too.”

He damns his subconscious when he involuntarily perks up, seeing Yuzu grin victoriously before ruffling his hair. “Go on. Put on some clothes. I will have them call the car then come get you in ten minutes, okay?”

The whole adventure from start to finish once they stepped out of the car and were discreetly ushered inside is a flurry of “try this, Shoma,” and “oh, this too,” and “you will look so cute in this,” and so on and so on. It’s distressing to say the least but at least he’s not the one carrying anything. He gives the shop assistant a pitiful look but the man keeps his smile in place.

Yuzu insists he tries on every piece in multiple combinations. Worse, he makes Shoma come out to show him just to prove he did. In the mirror they look nice, sure, but inside they’re… they’re too tight. He prefers Nathan’s much looser shirts and pants, and, after much squirming and tugging in front of him, Yuzu relents and buys him the slightly (“but only by one size!”) larger ones.

The shoes though, are better. It doesn’t feel like he’s clunking around lugging something with his feet anymore. He doesn’t think he needs five pairs though even if Yuzu insists.

“Johnny says everyone needs at least five pairs of shoes, Shoma, and he is correct. You need summer shoes, nice date-casual shoes, dress shoes, sneakers, and a pair of boots.”

Suffice to say Shoma is not impressed, even with the assurance of this “Johnny”. It’s only the promise of getting Nathan a gift afterwards that keeps him from bolting.

Back in the car to their next destination, Yuzu asks him, “Do you know basketball, Shoma?”

He shakes his head.

Yuzu continued. “That is what I thought. I have no interest but I hear Nathan likes it a lot. And I happen to know we definitely do not have a basketball or a hoop anywhere so how about it? Should we get one for Nathan?”

He nods excitedly at the prospect of giving Nathan something he loves, antsy and impatient the whole ride back with the ball in his hands and between his legs, practically bouncing in his seat willing the car to go faster and ignoring the fact that Yuzu is definitely laughing at him and not with him since he is not laughing at all.

Before he can escape the car and Yuzu, Yuzu snatches the ball away. He glares and huffs his displeasure but Yuzu tells him, unfazed, “Bring Nathan to the back driveway after dinner. I will tell someone to install this in the meantime while you go make up with Nathan. I’m sure he has been moping the entire time we have been gone.”

He deflates a little but nods. It’s time. A gift is nice and all but the apology probably means more. He stops and turns around when Yuzu calls him back.

“Here,” he says, handing Shoma a phone, to which Shoma only stared at it in confusion before gingerly taking it. “I see you are always watching Javi on Nathan’s phone--” and the sadness is back and it’s impressive how Yuzu doesn’t change his tone or demeanor at all, “--so I bought one for you. You use the phone this way.” He slides his finger across the screen the same way Nathan does too, so it must be an every phone kind of thing. “I did not put a passlock on it but you can do that later if you want. I also already put a shortcut to search Javi on Youtube on the home screen.” He points to one of the colorful squares, the triangle symbol he recognizes now from all the time Nathan has tapped on it for him.

And then, more curiously, Yuzu asks him, “Shoma, do you want to learn how to read and write? Do you want me to hire a tutor for you?”

Shoma agonizes on how to answer. On the one hand, yes. Communicating would be easier. On the other hand… it’s too much to ask for. Yuzu, sensing his hesitation, reroutes.

“How about we put that on hold, hm? There are a lot of apps. Here.” He takes the phone back, some quick tappings and then he hands it back to Shoma. “This icon,” he says, pointing to the new addition before clicking on it. “Start here. It will teach you the letters and then later on you can learn words. I had a tutor but apps like this one actually helped me learn a lot better and faster. And you already understand so you are halfway there.”

Wow. It's still baffling to him how these tiny things can do so much. What type of sorcery is this?

\----

The grass underneath him, the weather surprisingly cool for mid-August, Nathan takes a deep breath, exhaling it out slowly through his nose. He’s somewhere between sleep and not, just enough to feel drowsy, but not enough to slip into unconsciousness. Probably, he’ll come back later tonight if the sky remains clear, try and see if he can spot a star or two trapped within Tokyo’s night glow.

He doesn’t hear Shoma come but he wouldn’t expect to hear anyone come on grass as soft as this. He keeps his hands firm underneath his head, eyes closed, unmoving. He’s done all he can. It’s Shoma’s move now. Yet it surprises him when, of all things, Shoma lies down next to him, curling his smaller frame into Nathan’s side. Finally, he peeks an eye open to see Shoma staring up at him with his own pleading ones.

There’s no use in pretending he’s angry. He was a little, earlier in the day. Frustrated more like, but enough time has passed for it to dissipate and all that’s left is forgiveness.

It goes unsaid between the two of them the same as most things do. Usually one-sided from Shoma, but it seems their lack of need for words goes both ways because Shoma relaxes into him, closing his eyes and melting into Nathan. Content for the moment, Nathan does the same, letting the sound of nature around them gentle him back to his happy not quite sleep state.

After they’re collected for dinner, after they’re done eating -- no fish, thank God -- Shoma insistently tugs him back outside. He thinks for a moment there they’re going back to lying on the grass, only for Shoma to drag him further around the estate. When he sees it-

“Shoma, did you do this?” There’s a sense of awe in his words, internally giddy like a child though he won't show it as he picks up the basketball, feeling the familiar course leather against the palm of his hands. “Is this what you and Yuzu did?”

Shoma nods to say yes.

“Thank you,” he says, touched, tries to instill as much of his gratitude as he can into the words. “Yuzu’s got like a pool and an ice rink and all the gym stuff you could ever want but no basketball and no hoop. I’m sure he told you that already though. Just- I- Thank you, Shoma. Really. I mean it.”

For the first time Shoma blushes the way he would for Javi and there’s a part inside of him that does a victory punch into the air. He doesn’t let it show though. Well, nothing more than a grin. Instead, he asks the most important question at the moment. “Do you know how to play?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t even know what basketball  _ is _ and yeah, Nathan kind of expected that but it by no way lessens the shock he feels when Shoma confirms it. He might also be a little offended on basketball’s behalf and makes it his mission to extol the virtues of basketball unto an unsuspecting Shoma.

\----

At night when Shoma is alone in his room, assured that no one will bother him or overhear, he opens the Youtube app. It’d been slow going at first, all the different sounds some of the letters could make, cursing the invention of vowels. Why couldn’t one letter just make one specific sound? He got the hang of it eventually though, determined as he was, enough to read at least, even if it was slow. He’s slow at typing too -- the letter placements make no sense! -- nothing close to the fast tappity-tap-tap-tap that Nathan and Yuzu do but it’s enough.

And now…

He clears his throat in preparation and warms up the muscles before he clicks the little play button. The video is halfway through, right where he left off the night before. He mouths along with the person on his screen, watching intently how their lips form the shape and how their throat moves. His own is tight, still somewhat unfamiliar with how his muscles are supposed to contort, expanding and squeezing correctly to make the right sounds. Or close enough the right sounds, even. He’d be happy with that. He’s halfway there though, aided with whatever miniscule amount of magic he has left. He can feel it. Just a bit more to internalize the muscle memory, to make it a part of his own being.


	6. Chapter 6

Skating is still his favorite and at least five times a week he still drags Nathan to the ice, doesn’t want to go alone because as much as he likes to skate he loves to watch Nathan skate too. There’s a sort of rawness to it that feels like the choppy waves of a storm, chaotic and unexpected and beautiful. Not as pretty as Yuzu or even Javi, but still very good. Like he’d been on the cusp of something. And his jumps too. He jumps better than Shoma and Shoma mostly tells himself he watches so intently because he wants to steal them but the truth -- when he's caught up watching Nathan -- is that when Nathan jumps, sometimes even when he skates too, he is a whirlpool Shoma has unwittingly gotten himself trapped in.

Though skating is still a near everyday occurrence, the season has chugged along as it always has. The summer has come and gone without Shoma noticing --has it really been that long already? -- taking its warmth and the green of the leaves and the shrubs and all the flowers with their heady, intoxicating scent with it. What had once been abundant life has now faded into hues of orange and red, bright and burning. In the morning, after their shared breakfast and before lunch together, they now settle down in front of the tv to watch some basketball.

It’s… intriguing. There isn’t much art to it, and breaking it down it’s nothing more than people throwing a ball back and forth and trying to get it through the hoop at the other end of the court, but still Shoma watches entranced, follows that ball back and forth, back and forth. He loves Nathan’s reactions throughout each game too. It’s really the only time he gets to see Nathan display so much… emotion. Nathan feels a lot and Shoma is privy to most of them only because they're connected through his magic. Some things he does project but mostly Nathan forces himself mute, tamping down and locking his emotions away, sometimes even from himself. Shoma feels them but a few of them he cannot understand, cannot interpret, has never felt them for himself before, like when they lie down on the grass together, Shoma tucked to his side. The closest he can describe it is "warm" and even that doesn't feel close to it at all.

The ones Nathan projects during basketball are easy though. There’s the jubilation and excitement when his team -- the Utah Jazz -- are leading and winning, and then there’s the suspense that plays on his face when they’re behind. There’s desperation after about two or so hours when the timer starts getting closer to zero, his brows pinched together, his eyes intently concentrating on the screen like if he wishes at it hard enough he can make it happen. And then there’s disappointment and defeat, sighing at the ground while his hands are tangled in his hair.

It’s… fascinating but more… It’s  _ Nathan _ who is fascinating.

By the time the leaves are all gone though, and Nathan’s team has lost four times in a row, Shoma is perplexed. Nathan reacts the same to every loss but by Shoma’s count it seems they lose more than they win so… shouldn’t Nathan be used to it?

The next set of games, after one win and two more losses, mid what is most likely going to be their third straight loss, Shoma says, offhandedly, while the last quarter of the game is winding down, “Your team is very bad.”

He’s confused at first, wondering who spoke his exact thoughts. It’s true though. Nathan’s team is indeed very bad. They’ve watched other teams play and they fare much better. The clock in the game is counting down but Nathan is staring only at Shoma with wide, disbelieving eyes. Shoma realizes then that it’d been him.  _ He _ had been the one who spoke.

“Shoma, you just said that, right?! Can you say something else?”

He panics. His mouth opening and closing and though he tries to force some sounds to come out, tries to remember how to do it like he’d been teaching himself at night, nothing comes out.

Nathan curls his fingers around Shoma’s upper arm, close to his shoulders, right when Shoma is about to lose it, probably sensing Shoma panicking and tells him reassuringly, “I’m sorry. Don’t push yourself for me. Whenever you’re ready.”

Suddenly he’s okay. It’s like Nathan’s words made everything okay again so that he can open his mouth, and say, “Nathan.”

It’s a little off, doesn’t sound anything like how he imagines it in his head, stiff and probably more similar to how Yuzu says Nathan’s name than how Nathan says it himself but still Nathan’s face lights up as his mouth splits into a grin.

\----

For the most part their days are pretty consistent. Wake up, eat breakfast, sometimes with Yuzu, sometimes without, watch basketball, have lunch, Nathan goes to his lessons and Shoma watches videos of Javi, and then after Shoma strong-arms Nathan onto the ice. It’s gotten to the point where Nathan jokes about needing to get his blades sharpened already and hey, maybe they should get Shoma his own pair of skates if Shoma’s going to keep destroying the rentals. Plus they’re not the best anyway.

Shoma doesn’t mean to ruin them. They just… they don’t hold up as well, more worn than anything he’s seen Yuzu or Nathan or even what he could remember of Javi and Tracy and Brian wearing. He shakes his head to say no, that these are good enough for him, especially since he knows… he knows he’s not staying. Even saying that to himself… already he's beginning to miss Nathan and it's just the inkling of a thought. What's it going to feel like when he really is leaving? Will he be like Yuzu? Will he cry in Nathan's arms the same way Yuzu did Javi's? Could he ever feel that much? Does he?

Evenings and nights vary far more, depending on what Yuzu has on his schedule that day. Half the time Yuzu doesn’t make it home before Nathan and Shoma go to bed, Nathan explaining that Yuzu has an important job so he has to go to dinners with other important people with important jobs when Shoma had asked, further breaking it down and making it easier when it was clear Shoma didn’t understand what he meant by “state dinners”.

When Yuzu is home though -- when had Shoma come to think of this place as home? -- he spends most of his time in the ice rink. Sometimes with Shoma tagging along after having been asked, just the two of them working back and forth, circling the rink, working on some of the jumps with Yuzu encouraging him to be brave, to try harder even if he keeps landing flat on his back. He’s still somewhat clumsy but he still works at the little routine Tracy had given him a couple of months back, whittling away at it as he improves more and more. He takes Javi’s words to heart --  _ keep practicing, you are so good _ \-- and bury it away in his memories like precious pearls.

Javi is… an enigma. Shoma had sensed no magic from him and yet Javi is like Yuzu except he’s not. Yuzu feels like the sun, like this shining star but Javi feels more like rays of the sun on skin. Javi feels like the warmth of those rays on him while he drifts along with the ocean waves, sea sprites in his ears.

The other times, the pain and loneliness surrounding him is more potent, harder to push down and keep hidden. Yuzu goes alone. Shoma can’t pretend he understands. He doesn’t. Not one bit. Why skate alone for hours and hours and hours only to come back feeling more sad than before, rosy cheeked and breathless because there’s something else (someone else) siphoning most of it away.

Occasionally Yuzu catches him while he’s trying to sneak into the pool long after darkness has settled in. In the living quarters, usually half spread over the sofa, TV going at a low hum while he watches an event. Skating. It’s always skating with Yuzu. Inevitably, having caught Shoma, he asks Shoma where he is going, if he needs something, and when Shoma shakes his head Yuzu beckons him to join until one way or another, he ends up with his head in Yuzu’s lap, fingers carding through his hair gently, warm fingertips working over the skin of his scalp until the motion and the faint  _ psssha _ of jumps lull him to sleep.

On much rarer occasions, when it’s early still, just after dinner usually, and Yuzu has settled into the palace for the night, all three of them pile into the living room to watch a competition together. Nothing “live” like Nathan’s basketball games, no. Yuzu is much too busy for anything like that. Instead they’re “recorded”, like Javi’s programs are “recorded”, and Yuzu skips through all the boring stuff, like colorful people on screen telling him to buy some gum or some drink or other. He wishes they could do that with Nathan’s basketball games too.

It’s different when it’s Javi though. For Yuzu, Shoma is starting to understand that it’s always different when it comes to Javi.

The day starts as it does every morning. Nathan is up first, and then Shoma and Yuzu shuffling in some time after him. While they eat -- Shoma discreetly glaring at Nathan eating his salmon friends when they’re served on the menu -- Yuzu’s person reads him his schedule. It’s a long list of things Shoma doesn’t understand on top of more things Shoma really does not care about, but then-

“Tonight, shortly after 10pm, the Cup of China for the men’s short program is set to start.”

There’s the hint of a smile hidden behind a sip of orange juice. Yuzu does this, just like Nathan. He hides himself away. Everyone in this place does and not for the first time Shoma wonders if this is a human thing. If it’s part of human nature to hide. That same, hidden smile had been there the last time Javi had competed back in the ninth month of the year. Yuzu had stayed home for two straight days and the three of them had watched Javi win. Yuzu had quietly beamed with pride as Javi stepped onto the highest landing, and then stifled a grin when Javi couldn’t find something, searching, searching, searching, looking whichever way until he found it in front of him. He hadn’t even been embarrassed, not like how Yuzu or Nathan might have been, only beaming and laughing, and though Shoma can’t hear it over the music he can almost hear it in his mind.

Javi’s laugh is a thing of joy, musical and beautiful and true, like the song of the sea at dawn when the light glitters across the waters.

He hadn’t given it much thought the last time an announcement like this was made but then last time he didn’t understand the significance. Now that it’s in front of him again, and a reminder, Shoma connects the dots as best he can and comes to the only conclusion there is: this kind of announcement is made only for Javi’s competitions. They’re set in Yuzu’s schedule like the others, like they’re meant to be there, and Shoma can’t quite make heads or tails or what it means.

“Cool,” Nathan says offhandedly, interrupting Shoma’s thoughts. “Javi is competing tonight?”

“Yes,” Yuzu says, confirming. 

“Do you mind if we watch with you?” Nathan asks before Shoma even thinks it. “It’s his first grand prix event of the season, right?”

“Of course you and Shoma can, Nathan. You are always welcome to join and watch Javi. He is your friend too.”

But watching live at night is different from watching it live during the day, and as if he had been schooled to, his head in Yuzu’s lap, his legs on Nathan’s, Yuzu’s fingers through his hair, he can’t fight the sleep claiming him.

\----

It’s the second night of Cup of China and not even midway through Shoma is already snoring lightly, half on Yuzuru, half on Nathan. It’s everything as normal, Yuzu still carding his fingers through Shoma’s hair without thought, hardly sparing Nathan a glance. But then suddenly the atmosphere shifts. Javi is on the ice for the six minute warmup and Yuzu is watching too intently, his brow furrowed in concern. When the six minutes are up and the skaters clear the ice Yuzu leans back, breathes deeper and heavier.

“Something’s wrong,” he says more to himself than Nathan.

Perplexed, Nathan asks, “What do you mean?”

“With Javi,” Yuzuru clarifies.

“You think so?”

“Yes. I have a bad feeling.”

Sure enough Javi doesn’t skate like how he knows Javi can skate, not even close, coming in 6th place. Yuzuru looks as devastated as how Javi must feel and both he and Yuzu are smart enough to figure out it’s near impossible for Javi to make the Final.

It’s not the season either of them thought Javi would be having, especially not an Olympic one.

In the lull after the competition while the TV is still running, neither of them truly paying attention, both tired with bags under their eyes but not ready to move yet, especially not with Shoma sleeping so soundly between them, he tells Yuzu, “It’s kinda weird that you train with Javi and have Brian Orser come coach you here,” because it is. Yuzu doesn’t compete -- he’s not allowed to -- and yet he gets the world’s top skater and his elite, probably hundreds of dollars an hour coach to fly all the way from Toronto to set up base in Tokyo for two, two and a half months. The money Yuzuru must be shelling out to make that happen has to be insane.

But again, he doesn’t compete. So why?

There’s a long, pregnant pause while Yuzuru gathers his thoughts, and then he tries to explain the best he can. “Figure skating is my art. Like my sister has tea ceremony and my father has Kendo and my mother has her flowers in her garden. Figure skating is mine, it is almost like my life, so I must give everything I can. Even if I cannot compete and win, I must still not stop striving to be perfect.”

There’s some weird sense layered in there somewhere. Nathan can respect that, and all the more he respects Yuzuru. He’s just… his own brand of intense. He’d seen it when Javi and Yuzuru had been together, this fierce rivalry between the two of them, fire burning in Yuzuru’s eyes as Javi does a quad sal and Yuzu follows up with his own quad sal triple axel combo.

It’s kind of insane that Yuzuru, who -- again -- does not compete, can do quads just as easy as Javier Fernandez. They’re not as refined as Javi’s no, but Nathan suspects it’s more lack of consistent training with a coach than anything else. In another world, maybe, Yuzuru and Javi might have had a rivalry for the ages. In this world though Yuzuru is a prince and Javi is the star of men’s figure skating who, before that night, had not not been on the podium since he failed to medal back in Sochi.

\----

When IDF closes both him and Yuzuru breathe a little easier. Javi had placed first. It’s a long shot but there’s still a shot at least, for him to make it through to the final by the skin of his teeth. It hadn’t been easy though. That free skate… It’s Shoma who makes Javi’s struggle this season corporeal, like acknowledging it finally makes it real and unavoidable.

He asks Yuzuru maybe, or both of them, Nathan isn’t sure. “What is wrong with Javi?”

Yuzuru is the one who answers, but then Yuzuru is the only one who would probably know outside of Javi and his coaching team.

“Javi is tired,” Yuzuru explains, putting on a facade of perfected nonchalance Nathan knows innately Shoma isn’t buying. “Javi has been skating for a really, really long time. Longer than Nathan has been alive. Maybe even you, if you ever tell us your birthday.” He pauses for a moment, the hint of a smile Nathan recognizes as genuine before he continues.

“Javi is really kind so he’s not made for competition. His body is tired but I think Javi’s mind is tired too. Does that make sense?”

Shoma plops back down onto Yuzuru’s lap, letting Yuzuru pamper him again with a scalp massage.

Funny. It’s a little endearing too, especially Shoma’s pleased, satisfied face. Yuzuru treats Shoma like a cat or a puppy or something, petting him and petting him endlessly, and Shoma eats it up. He wonders briefly if Shoma would let him do the same, if Shoma would smile at him pleased and satisfied too before falling asleep.

Nathan would like that.

\----

It’s not a surprise after Skate America, finding out that Javi didn’t make it.

It shouldn’t be a surprise though, and yet it still is, the way that Yuzuru seems down for almost a week after. He sighs, and he sighs, and on the rink he doesn’t jump even singles. Instead he goes round and round and round the rink, no fancy footwork, no twizzles or spins or anything to show off, to win even if it’s just the three of them. Just one foot in front of the other as he hugs the edge, arms across his middle like he’s trying to hug himself, curling in on his own body. Not even Shoma can snap him out of it.

Nathan doesn’t know what to make of that, and he doesn’t know Yuzuru well enough to know how to make him feel better. He’s not confident he ever will. Yuzuru plays at being an open book but hides himself away, never allowing himself to be vulnerable so how the hell is a marriage between them supposed to work? 


	7. Chapter 7

Shoma doesn’t get cold even though the weather has gotten to the point where he can see his own breath sometimes. There are parts of the ocean he has swum in all his life colder than this so this? This is nothing to him. He’s tried telling Nathan as much, minus all the swimming in the ocean and stuff, brushing away all the sweaters and hoodies and jackets Yuzuru keeps gifting him only to have Nathan reassert himself by thrusting the thing under Shoma’s nose again. Begrudgingly, Shoma has come to accept this is a fight he’s not going to win. He’s won plenty. Most of them actually, but on this one thing Nathan doesn’t budge.

It’s no hardship wearing all the layers even if it does make him feel warmer than he prefers to stay. No, the real problem he has with more layers is that they’re cumbersome and more than that they get in the way when-

Nathan dribbles the ball right around him, pivoting at the last second, his back pressed into Shoma’s chest for a split second, the scent of Nathan’s hair -- the same as his but still different too, still innately Nathan -- fills his senses for a moment before it too is gone, left with Nathan as he does an easy lay-up into the hoop, scoring yet another two points on Shoma.

Shoma spins around, glowering at him, eyes burning more when Nathan answers with a cheeky grin, his pearly white teeth on display. There’s almost this… bundle of feeling inside of Shoma he can’t quite explain. Like he has to score too. Like he has to wipe that smug smile off Nathan’s face. Like he has to  _ win. _

He starts with the ball this time, dribbling it exactly like how Nathan had taught him except a lot slower. They’re head to head and he’s directing his best death glare at Nathan. He fakes left, tries to break away right but he must have been telegraphing too loudly or Nathan predicted ahead of time because in one breath he’s almost past Nathan and the next Nathan has stolen the ball away for another easy two pointer.

This ugly feeling takes over him, fills him with something hot and terrible, overwhelming all thought. One moment he’s watching Nathan finish one more easy basket, picking up the ball again after and the next he’s charging and tackling Nathan to the ground.

“Woah!” Nathan yelps out, surprised, but still he wraps his arms around Shoma so that when they land -- Shoma on top -- Nathan takes the brunt of it, winded on his back and groaning in pain.

It’s that care and thought that immediately makes him feel ashamed, guilty.

“Okay,” Nathan wheezes out painfully. “I know you’re sorry but stop giving me the weepy eyes. Roll off me, yeah? Then we’re good.”

Shoma is aghast, horrified, rolling off of Nathan as requested.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, feels compelled to say it anyway even if Nathan already knows.

Nathan sits up, facing him, rubbing at his chest, wincing a little, and then he’s taking one of Shoma’s cheeks into his hand.

_ “I’m _ sorry. I was being a show-off. And definitely teasing you.”

He swallows thickly, nodding again as another, more complicated feeling starts to take over. Nathan is never not kind to him, like now with his hand against Shoma’s cheek as he gives Shoma a once over to make sure he’s not hurt. Somewhere in the back of his mind Shoma knows his hand is dirty, transferred there from the ground to the ball and then to his hand and yet…

He doesn’t want Nathan to take his hand away. He wants Nathan to keep touching him. He wants to keep touching Nathan too.

There’s an urge inside him telling him to do it. Just lean in, kill the distance between the two of them and kiss Nathan the way he’d seen people do on the TV when they watch movies together. So he does, inch by inch, Nathan watching him intently with wide, terrified eyes but he’s not backing away. It feels like he’s anticipating it too, curious maybe, so clo-

Someone clears their throat, interrupting, and both of them jerk back from each other, gazes pivoting to where the sound had come from.

“Nathan-sama,” Kenji says politely. “It is time for your etiquette lessons. Your instructor is here and waiting in the study.”

Later in his room, he’s horrified by the realization that he hadn’t thought about taking his magic back at all. All these weeks and months trying to find an angle to exploit and when the opportunity arose his magic had been the furthest thought from his mind. He’d been too lost in the moment with Nathan feeling whatever complicated feeling this was, his heart beating fast. It has him going round and round soaring high, feeling light as a bird’s feather to this simmering warmth that reminds him of home and the crest and lulls of his favorite waves to this conflicted knot in his stomach sometimes when Nathan and Yuzu are clearly having a conversation that doesn’t involve him and like he’s not there at all. Like maybe they should get a wedding planner soon or talk to Yuzu’s mother about it. Like setting a date. Autumn, they had decided. When the leaves are changing colors.

By then Shoma will be gone.  _ Should _ be gone, his magic reclaimed.

Oh.

_ Maybe. _

Maybe it really can be that easy. He can reclaim his magic with a kiss.

\----

It’s harder to get the kiss than the movies make it out to be. He tries but either someone interrupts them or the moment doesn’t feel right, Nathan putting the palm of his hand on Shoma’s forehead, asking him if he’s alright.

“You feel warm,” he says. “And you’re turning all red. Let’s get you in bed. I can ask Kenji if we have medicine.”

And then it turns into a huge fussing fest, especially when Yuzu gets wind of it.

After more than ten failed attempts he thinks maybe it’d be better to find another way. There’s only so many times he can be made to stay in bed, and only so many times he can be a fool.

\----

In Yuzu’s home everything remains the same (impeccable, as is the standard) but the outside world seems to have taken a sudden turn towards colored lights -- red and green and purple, orange and pink and most of all, blue -- and these ginormous triangular shaped trees that are admittedly very pretty with shiny (and also very colorful) balls. It seems more a waste than anything. Why would you cut down something as majestic as a tree? At least everything seems brighter, more merry, and there’s a cheer that’s contagious from the looks of it, passing from one person to the next as Shoma watches people move in and out of his eyesight while they ride past in the car.

Unlike Yuzu, Nathan doesn’t have much to do -- no official obligations by Yuzu’s side or on his own -- at least not yet so Nathan constantly takes them on adventures. Sometimes close to home, like Tokyo Tower where he’ll first insist they could just ride the trains, only to be politely shut down by Kenji. Average once a week they do something further away, like that time Nathan drove them almost four hours through towns and trees and mountains, walking along a long dirt path together only to reach a bridge they can walk across. The main draw, apparently. Shoma can understand why.

The water is a beautiful shade of powder blue green he’s never seen before either. Nathan likes to do these kinds of things. “Hiking” he calls it. Shoma is definitely less fond of it but… he likes to be with Nathan. He likes to see Nathan’s face when Nathan feels at peace. And those boots Yuzu forced on him are actually being used too. He’d been skeptical at first -- five pairs of shoes? -- but it seems five pairs were right after all.

Which reminds him of his current predicament. He’d definitely take hiking over their chosen activity of the day.  _ Shopping, _ he repeats to himself with a disgusted scrunch of his nose. His  _ least _ favorite activity, even if the only time he’d done it before had been with Yuzu. Yuzu is, in a lot of ways, his own special brand.

“It’s Christmas now,” Nathan says offhandedly somewhere behind him, unknowingly explaining to Shoma. “Every December. Back home Thanksgiving is a month before Christmas. People get upset if you try to put up Christmas themed decorations before December 1st but I think in Japan they just like the neatness of decorating on the first day of every month.”

“What is Christmas for?” Shoma asks.

Nathan doesn’t even blink when he answers. “Depends. Some really religious people say it’s for celebrating Jesus’ birth. A lot of people like me just think it’s a holiday to spend time with your family and be thankful for them. Which is why we’re gonna go get everyone presents. For Yuzu and his family and Kenji and the household staff too. We should thank them, right? They take really good care of us.”

Shoma agrees. Without them he thinks him and Nathan and Yuzu would be a complete mess. There’s always food for them to eat at all times of the day, snacks if not full meals, and he suspects that if he and/or Nathan had to fend for themselves they might have perished a long time ago with Yuzu in tow. Or perhaps more Yuzu would be the one towing them to said fate. His shoes and clothes are always clean too, no matter how much dirt he gets on them. And his room too. Whatever he carelessly leaves on the floor, by the time he returns everything is right back where it should be.

The gifts for them are important, yes, but something else nags at him. “Nathan, where is your family?”

“My family? Oh, they’re back home. In California.”

He cocks his head to the side. “California?”

“Yeah. In the United States. Way on the other side of the ocean.”

“Oh. Are you going home?”

Nathan dims. “No. It’s probably for the best that I stay here.”

Before he can ask why, curious, a melancholy spreads, permeating the air. Nathan. It’s similar to Yuzu’s except a little different, not so devastated. More, it’s… a yearning, he thinks. He’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure what to do either. If Yuzu were here he’d say something funny to break the mood, deftly changing the topic to something nice and easy, something for him and Shoma to toss back and forth while Nathan hides himself away. But Yuzu isn’t here, it’s only him and Shoma and Kenji driving, and Kenji hardly ever gets himself involved in anything personal, rather more like a shadow so the silence seeps in, takes over until all that’s left is a melancholic bitterness.

It’s ironic that he can speak properly now with a voice and everything, and each day that passes he’s getting better at it. Yet it’s a curious thing to know now that though he can speak it doesn’t always mean he should, and just because he can doesn’t mean he knows what to say. There’s just so much that the human language limits, and yet there’s so many feelings that Shoma cannot explain. Maybe Itsuki would know. Itsuki has always been smarter. He would have caught all the words that continue to elude Shoma.

In the end the day isn’t what it should have been. Nathan probably meant for it to be something easy, something fun, something to undo the trauma Yuzu had caused but Shoma had ruined it by asking dumb questions when he could have very well left it alone. Instead of Nathan easy, loose and throwing smiles at Shoma, each one Shoma likes to collect, it’s just another awful shopping experience where he lifts something, showing it to Nathan, and gets back a shrug and a, “Sure, why not?”

The interlude is filled with more awful silence.

When they get home the gifts are brought into one of the seldom used rooms and Nathan excuses himself, not coming out for dinner and spending the rest of the evening alone in his room.

Yuzu finds him in the living quarters when he gets home, the day having turned into proper dusk, curled into a ball in one of the couches watching another one of Javi’s skates. It’s soothing for him and he needs this like he had needed that gel-like balm Nathan had gently smoothed over one of his torn knees after a bad fall during one of their basketball games, Shoma tripping over his own feet, laces untied, Nathan tying it for him after, berating him gently, fondly, and telling him to be more careful.

The cushion where his head ends dip as Yuzu settles in, and soon another soothing balm is introduced. Yuzu works caring hands into his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Little Shoma,” he says kindly. “Why are you sad?

He scoots up bit by bit until his head is in Yuzu’s lap. “Nathan is sad.”

Yuzu hums like it makes the most sense in the world even though for Shoma it barely does. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He mulls the question over, unsure, but then decides there’s no more harm that Yuzu could do that he hasn’t done already. “Nathan took us to buy presents for everyone because it is Christmas. Nathan was telling me about Christmas and how it is a holiday to be spent with family. So I asked him if he is going to go home and he said no, then he got sad.”

“Ah. Well, I’m sure Nathan misses his family but if he thinks he should stay then that is his decision. But how about you and me, we show Nathan we are his family now too. What do you think?”   
  
“We are a family?”

“Yes, of course,” Yuzu says, answering without hesitation, his tone warm. “I care about you and Nathan, and Nathan cares about us, and you care about me and Nathan, do you not Shoma?”

Shoma nods slowly, letting that truth sink and take root.

“So then of course we are family. Why don’t we do something really nice for Nathan too? For his Christmas present?”

“Okay. But Yuzu, what are we going to do?”

“Nathan really likes his mother’s dumplings. Why don’t I get someone to contact her for the recipe and then you and I can do it together? We can give it to him on Christmas morning as a present.”

Shoma nods, excited, liking the idea more and more the more it settled into him. Nathan deserves nice things, and he’s taken care of Shoma for so long Shoma should take care of him a little bit too, right?

\----

To avoid suspicion, Yuzu tells Nathan they’re going out for the day with more last minute shopping and that yes, he was going to drag Shoma with him, no other option available, promising they’ll be back before dinner so the three of them can watch some western Christmas movies on Christmas Eve. Shoma is used as an excuse, having never seen  _ any _ to the slight horror of Nathan. Maybe it’s not what Nathan’s family does. Actually, Yuzu concedes that it’s most likely not what Nathan’s family does but maybe this is better so that he isn’t reminded of them so much. And, Yuzu thinks, they can start their own tradition.

What they end up doing is destroying Yuzu’s sister Saya’s kitchen to the detriment of her household staff. Even with the recipe it’s like flour exploded everywhere and Shoma, every time one of the staff members comes by, bows in apology knowing they’re the ones who are going to have to clean up the mess. Yuzu, regal, the prince he is, smiles in apology but unlike Shoma he doesn’t bow.

It’s after they’ve finally figured out the dough and are filling in the meat, folding the dough over and crimping it neatly, their dumplings all different sizes, that Yuzu truly shocks him.

He says to Shoma, “So, you’re a merman, right?”

Shoma drops everything, fear striking his heart, his throat closed and tight the way it hasn’t been in over a month. Finally, he forces out, “What? What are you talking about?”

Yuzu shrugs nonchalantly, probably to ease him back from fleeing. And he wants to. He wants to flee so badly and he would have if only that didn’t mean leaving Nathan behind too.

“I saw you. In the pool. Maybe… two weeks ago? I was taking a walk at night. I could not sleep.”

He shoots up, ready to run. Maybe he can make it back to Nathan, explain somewhat. Or he can hide, find Nathan when he’s alone and try to explain before Yuzu gets to him.

Yuzu’s hand had shot out too, fingers curling around his wrist gently, calm but powerful. “Calm down,” Yuzu urges. “Do not worry. I was alone. If you are scared I am going to have you locked up, please do not be.”

Shoma settles back down cautiously, wary. “You don’t tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Not even Nathan?"

Yuzu shakes his head. “Not even Nathan. I think you should tell him yourself when you are ready. But I wanted to tell you, Shoma, that it is okay. I do not care and I will keep you safe. And I know too that Nathan will not care either.”

Shoma nods, albeit less assured than he’d liked. “I think so too,” he murmurs. “But somewhere in here,” he motions to his chest, “I am still scared.”

“That is okay too,” Yuzu assures. “Take all the time you need. But I am curious why you are here. And why Nathan?”

While they fold the dumplings, each sequential one getting better, he explains to Yuzu about his magic, how it works the best that he can, how he needs it to guide him home.

“Oh, like GPS?”

“GPS?”

“When you and Nathan go on your long trips, Nathan has it on his phone. It shows him where to go.”

“Oh. Yes. But better. With my magic I never get lost. I always know where I am at and where I want to go. GPS sometimes doesn’t work, I think. It takes me and Nathan to the wrong places. Nathan jokes it wants to kill us when it happens and he calls the woman on his phone, ‘Sheila.’”

“Sheila?”

Shoma nods. “I don’t know what he is referencing either.”

“So your magic. Nathan has it?”

“Yes, Nathan has my magic.”

“And he doesn’t know?”

Shoma shakes his head.

“If you tell him he will definitely give it back to you.”

“I think I know that too.”

Yuzu finally looks at him, halting his dumpling making, confusion in his eyes. “So what is stopping you?”

He shuts up, his mouth staying closed. He doesn’t want to admit he’s not ready, that he’ll miss all of this. He’ll miss the food and the little trips he and Nathan take and he’ll miss Yuzu, but most of all he’ll miss Nathan so much he’s sure there’ll be an emptiness inside of him nothing else will ever be able to fill again.

Yuzu takes pity on him, probably. Instead of pushing Shoma to answer he changes the subject, says, “You should stay a while. Nathan will miss you a lot when you finally go home.”

Maybe it’s because Yuzu offered this first but he admits out loud that he’ll miss Nathan too, even if his voice had been small and tiny.

\----

Dinner is a nice mix of traditional chinese home meals and a typical western holiday dinner. The chinese meals are easier for Yuzuru’s stomach so he sticks to those, but Shoma goes everywhere, excited to try anything that doesn’t look like a vegetable, Nathan urging Shoma to please, please eat some vegetables. Just a little.

“For me?” he asks nicely, handing over a bowl of vegetable stir fry. Not quite a plea but something along the same vein.

Shoma stops, stares at the bowl warily, but Yuzuru knows Shoma is going to give in. And he does. He takes the bowl from a grinning Nathan, and eats all of it even if he does grimace more than once while swallowing, once almost gagging.

After they pile into the living area in their pajamas, the TV already set up for them along with pillows, blankets, futons. They didn’t ask but they wouldn’t be Yuzuru’s staff if they needed to be told. They all start sitting up, watching the older films like  _ Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer _ and  _ Miracle on 34th Street, _ each of them with a sweet cup of hot chocolate, mini marshmallows included, and much, much later,  _ Home Alone  _ curled on their sides, sleepy with their own blankets wrapped around them.

\----

Shoma feels his phone vibrate underneath his pillow and he hates it. It’s so early. So, so,  _ so _ early the sun is barely up yet but if he and Yuzu don't get up now to cook those dumplings they’ll never get the chance to. Nathan is such an early riser, his internal clock clicking into motion and rousing him up around the same time every day that they have no other choice.

Yuzu groans and turns over, hitting the snooze button on his own phone for a few extra more minutes of sleep. It’s early yet so a few extra moments won’t hurt.

While he waits he watches Nathan sleep. He’s never seen Nathan sleep before. He looks so young. And handsome too, his traitorous mind reminds him. His curls are as soft as they look, and Shoma dives one of his hands into them, carding through each lock carefully so as to not wake him.

Shoma feels it. The urge. Just… a tiny one. It can’t hurt, right?

He leans, stops shortly before their mouths actually meet to inhale deeply, telling his heart to _ please just calm down won’t you? _ and then he’s pressing his lips to Nathan’s. It’s nice. Warm. Smooth. Sweet. Life-changing maybe. Like the movies. Seems they weren’t exaggerating after all.

He plops back onto his own pillow, Nathan still blissfully asleep, his heart thumping quickly in his chest, thrilled and exhilarated, his magic in the furthest recesses of his mind, left forgotten..

\----

7:30 in the morning and when Nathan wakes up -- a little later than his normal but he figures it’s okay, it being the holidays and all, and he’s not sure when he finally fell asleep during the Christmas movie queue -- he’s alone. He blinks, surprised, for a second wondering if he’s somehow woken up in a parallel universe where Shoma doesn’t sleep like the dead until at least 9 AM most days and Yuzu isn’t only just marginally better.

He rubs the back of his hand against the corner of his mouth, wiping away any drool that might have leaked out when he was sleeping, blanket pooled around his hips. It’s then, while he’s still groggy, trying to figure out where Yuzuru and Shoma could have gone, that they come in. Hushed at first, whispering back and forth to each other they hardly notice him until they do, each breaking into a wide grin and offering it to him along with a plate filled with dumplings, presenting the food to him while he’s still essentially in bed.

Shoma speaks first after Yuzuru motions for him to, giving way, encouraging. “Merry Christmas, Nathan.”

“Guys,” he says, his throat croaking a little, still rough from sleep. “What is this?”

“Present for you,” Shoma says. “We spent all day making it yesterday because dumplings are your favorite.”

“Here,” Yuzuru says, handing him a pair of chopsticks. “Try it.”

Nathan pops one into his mouth, trying not to grin like an idiot but this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him.

He’s just-

He’s so-

He can’t stop, having to hide it behind a hand while he chews, all of a sudden shy in a way he hasn’t been with Shoma or Yuzuru before.

Before he can swallow Shoma asks apprehensively, “How is it?”

How is it? He chews slowly, thinking it over and buying himself some time. How to answer… Honestly, very mediocre. Not the worst, maybe slightly above average, nothing like his moth-

And then he tastes it. The hint of her, the hint of his mom’s recipe.

“Did you get the recipe from my mom?”

Yuzuru nods. “Yes. Does it taste like hers?”

“Yes,” he says after swallowing. It’s not a lie. How could it be when they’re both beaming so brightly at him, happy and proud to have given Nathan a piece of home, a piece of his family?

He has to chuckle while they’re sitting atop their futons, each of them holding their own large dish of dumplings for breakfast as they restart the movie queue. Apparently Yuzuru and Shoma didn’t know when to stop, making enough to feed a small army, so everyone, including staff members who are still there, will be having it for breakfast (and probably lunch as well). Nathan kind of wants to apologize to them on behalf of gift givers but well, food shouldn’t be wasted and they worked so hard on it.

Mid _ -Santa Clause 2, _ just past 9 AM, Yuzuru’s phone starts buzzing. He reaches for it blindly, clearly in no rush until he’s staring at the screen, clocking in who’s calling. He excuses himself quickly. Shoma barely pays attention as he leaves, eyes glued to the TV but Nathan catches the soft, affectionate, “Hi, Javi,” before Yuzuru is too far away to be heard, voice fading away the further he went.

He shrugs, brushing the incident off, and sneakily throws a few of his dumplings into Yuzuru’s bowl.

When the light starts to fade, evening approaching, Yuzuru leaves them to get himself ready before heading off to spend the rest of the day with his parents and Saya.

Shoma’s head in his lap, the rest of him balled around Nathan and sound asleep, Nathan asks Yuzuru, “Should I be going with you?”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “Stay. Your family should be waking up in a couple of hours. I am sure they will want to call you first thing.”

So it’s just the two of them, him and Shoma, while Shoma sleeps, once in a while burying himself further into Nathan’s stomach and Nathan tries very hard not to touch, every now and then allowing his fingertips to smooth over an eyebrow when he thinks Shoma’s dreams aren’t going well or his jaw when he thinks he spots some lint. But not Shoma’s lips. No. Never. He can’t. He shouldn't want to.

Here, however, like this, he can’t hide anymore. The desire is there. He wants to. He  _ really _ wants to, his fingers itching for it.

His family video calls sometime between eight and nine. He couldn’t quite catch the exact time, intent on answering before he disturbs Shoma. He makes sure to keep the volume low, and he speaks to them even lower.

There’s the screams of Merry Christmas, of course, and then everyone speaking at once, asking him how he’s doing, how’s Japan? Is he liking it there? The palace? What’s it like? And Prince Yuzuru? Is he spoiled? Snobbish? Uppity?

He answers as best he can, voice kept low, filled with happiness to see his family all in one place again even if he isn’t there. Everyone is so busy these days that often they’re only exchanging texts with Nathan, quick  _ How are you doing? _ And even quicker  _ That’s great. Have to go! Take care and let me know if you need anything! _

Then his sister, Janice, asks, “Is something wrong with your phone? Your voice is so low.”

“No. I- Someone’s here. Sleeping.”

“So go in another room,” his other sister, Alice says.

He hesitates, then painfully admits, “I can’t.”

Janice leers at him suspiciously. “Nathan, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” he says, a touch too loud, Shoma squirming against him. “Nothing,” he repeats, softer this time. “Just Shoma is sleeping on my lap.”

“Shoma?” Everyone echoes all at once, his sisters’ tones more of a shriek, his mother’s calm and inquisitive, and his brothers’ confused.

He explains everything from the beginning, making sure to tell them he didn’t mean to keep it a secret. It just never came up and when they ask to see him he flips the camera around, both his sisters cooing once they catch sight of him.

His mother takes control of the phone soon after, dismissing the rest of the family so she can talk to Nathan alone.

“Nathan,” she says seriously. “Who is this boy to you?”

“Mom, he’s just my friend.”

“Just a friend?”

_ “Yes.” _

She sighs, and suddenly she looks so sad. “In my perfect world, you would be able to love whoever you choose.”

“I know,” he says through a smile he doesn’t feel, plastered on and too wide, too much teeth. “I promise you, just a friend.”

Nathan can’t read his mom’s face at all, holding his breath he wishes she’d drop the subject.

“Okay,” she relents but the sadness is still on her face. “You’ve always been such a good son. Remember that I love you and I will never stop. Even when you’re over 5,000 miles away.”

“I know. I love you too,” he says back. “You’ve always been a good mom to me. I promise.”

After the reluctant goodbyes, all the hellos and farewells to cousins and  _ I miss you’s _ he hangs up feeling noticeably more hollow than before.

He glances down at Shoma, still sleeping peacefully with no clue as to what he does to Nathan, how he sets Nathan’s heart rate aflutter, so light he feels like there are wings attached.

_ Just friends, _ he tells himself over and over and over, hoping it’ll become the truth if he says it enough times, only it stays what it is -- a lie.


	8. Chapter 8

If only one person could come back from behind to win, Yuzuru is going to put all his wealth on Javi.  _ His  _ Javi. All 600 million of it, including all three of the palaces and the villa granted to him by his father and mother.

One season, admittedly a less than stellar one, and suddenly everyone stops looking at Javi as a serious contender for gold, abandoning ship as they say. All anyone and everyone wants to talk about is the next new, shiny thing. Boyang Jin and his 2017 worlds upset, Javi having to settle for silver. Boyang Jin and his beautiful quad lutz. Boyang Jin and his four quads and his youth and his seemingly endless energy, and isn't it a pity that he had to pull out of the Grand Prix Final. He loves Boyang, he does, but even with that quad lutz Boyang is no Javi.

Not to mention, not too far behind Boyang the Russian men, sharks circling in the European field. Mikhail Kolyada, of course, the frontrunner.

Javi is considered old now at twenty-six on top of his worlds loss and a bad season. They imply he’s tired, worn out, burnt and wary. It hurts Yuzuru a little to acknowledge that it's true. Mentally, yes, and physically too, his body taking longer to heal, the falls taking longer to recover from. But also emotionally, his three year relationship with Miki coming to an end, but that's gossip no one who wants to be considered serious would discuss publicly. Javi had seen it coming, of course. Not so much a crash and burn but rather a slow, cold death as the warmth slowly seeped out. Javi had tried fighting, holding on to someone who wasn’t really his anymore because he was going to marry her someday. It was a promise he made to himself, and to her as well, but at least he had had the sense not to make it to Himawari who was young enough to believe such a foolish promise and old enough for broken ones to scar. Javi had fought until the last dying embers stubbornly -- uncharacteristically so -- even if somewhere he knew that wasn't a life he dreamed for anymore.

Sometimes letting go of long held dreams are harder to accept than almost anything else. Yuzuru should know. He lies to himself but he knows too. Still in his dreams is building a life with Javi. In his dreams he can say  _ I love you  _ and Javi will say back  _ I love you, too. _ But like Javi has let Miki and Himawari go, Yuzu has to let Javi go too.

It’s for the best that Javi didn’t make the Final. The selfish part of him had wanted to see every skate and any and every competition he could, knowing full well that this… this is Javi’s last season. They had had their final summer together and Yuzuru hadn’t even been told about it until it was gone. The season is gone now too, but he still has this, and he still has the Olympics.

It’s-

It’s like-

It’s like one long goodbye Yuzuru doesn’t want to stop saying. When it ends a new, more lackluster life starts.

That's not to say that there's something wrong with Nathan. Nathan is great. He’s fine. He’s  _ perfectly _ fine. Truly.

Well, maybe there is  _ one _ thing wrong with Nathan. He’s no Javier Fernandez. Javi, who is his own complete person, a perfect balance and complement to Yuzuru’s own complete person. When they’re together it’s like their souls are matched, peacefully sharing space while riding an elevator together. Yuzuru has loved him from the moment they met, where else but on the ice? Instead of bowing or calling Yuzuru by his title he had waved excitedly, and though he had been hurt by other skaters, scarred by another coach, Javi had said to him, heart bared, “Hi, Yuzu. I’m Javi.”

Six years they’ve had together, filled with summers and the ice and calls when they can, an effort expelled only for Javi, so he knows Javi better than anyone. Javi is the king of comebacks. An Olympic medal is the goal, color doesn’t matter, he says, but that’s why he has Yuzuru. Yuzuru will dream big enough for the both of them.

Through  _ Modern Times _ Javi establishes his dominance, brought back fiercely, shouting to the whole world he’s still here, still fighting because even after all these years on top he's still the underdog, still the one who has to prove to these larger federations that some unknown kid from Spain with barely a federation tied together can succeed, can excel and push the sport forward too. His edges are beautiful, no other equal in the men’s field except maybe Patrick Chan, all Tracy’s hard work coming to fruition and on full display, but Patrick Chan is no serious threat. Javi’s flow, fluidity, interpretation and musicality, is incomparable. Maybe it’s not the best short he’s ever skated but it’s close to, and more beautiful than any other skate he’s done before.

Javi’s score comes up: 107.58, first place.

Nathan and Shoma are cheering, Nathan loudly, boisterous with his boyish charm, Shoma more contained, controlled and reserved, like even after all this time he's still not comfortable with his voice, and Yuzuru, well, he’s having a moment. He swallows thickly, his throat hot and tight, and owlishly blinks the tears away.

It’s then that the words slip out, stupidly revealing a secret. “I wish I could see Javi skate at least once in competition.”

Yuzuru hears Nathan’s surprise in his voice. “You haven’t?”

He shakes his head. “I never have time. And everything I do is event. If I go then it becomes all about me. Instead of headlines about Javi it will only be headlines about me. Javi works so hard I cannot do that to him.”

But Nathan is American so he doesn’t understand and Shoma is a merman so he doesn’t understand both of them. Yuzuru knows enough to know that between him and Nathan, Shoma will always side with Nathan.

Incredulous, Nathan asks him, “You’ve never snuck out? In disguise? Not even once?”

No, never. Rules are there for a reason. He may bend them sometimes, push the boundaries, but he's not meant to break them.

“Okay. Yeah. No,” Nathan says decisively. “We’re getting you to that free skate.”

It doesn’t take nearly enough trying to convince him before they’re boarding the family private plane to Korea. It’s reckless and idiotic and if he gets caught well… the press will be bad enough but even at twenty-three his mother’s disappointment still destroys him. It's his last chance, he tells himself, justifying it that way. The way the season has gone Javi won't go to Worlds. He doesn't need to say it for Yuzuru to understand.

\----

  
It’s sort of a nightmare once they land in Yangyang. They had at least had the foresight to disguise Yuzuru in one of Nathan’s many too large Yale hoodies. Black jeans, casual sneakers all tied together with a “USA” cap, his hair gathered messily and tied into a mini bun on top of his head, hidden underneath.

“Glasses too,” Nathan had insisted, thrusting his glasses over to him, the ones he wears at home sometimes when he’s not going anywhere but never in public. In fact no one outside of his family and the royal household -- and Javi, his traitorous mind reminds him -- knows he needs them.

He did as instructed and reassessed in the mirror. He still looks too recognizable in his opinion. “Are you sure?” he asked, uncertain.

“Yeah. There’s some psychology thing about glasses. It throws people off, like a filter.”

He looked again. “How do you know?”

Nathan shrugged but Yuzuru saw right through him, even by way of the mirror.

“I was gonna go to Yale. Statistics and Data Science. These kinds of things interest me.”

“You could still go,” Yuzuru offered after a pause, spinning around so they’re face to face again. “If you want.”

He shrugged again but it was stiffer that time. “I’ll think about it.”

So no then, Yuzuru concluded but still accepted his answer, choosing not to argue with Nathan about it, little and civil as said argument may be. It was Nathan’s life, tied to his as well but not his own to wrangle and control and if Nathan’s old enough to get married then his decisions should be his own.

In Yangyang Nathan is also disguised. There was that foresight too at least. If Nathan is recognized then there is no chance Yuzuru  _ isn’t _ going to be recognized, famous as he is. Thankfully not as famous as the British Royal Family even if he and his family are maybe (no, there’s no maybe about it, definitely) a little richer, even with half a billion given to Nathan’s family. They did not, however, have the foresight to plan where they would stay or where they would go once they arrived at five in the morning.

Stuck in the airport, no security, essentially a runaway prince with his fiance and their adopted puppy, watching Nathan’s fingers fly across his phone. Tap tap tap before he scrolls, scrolls, and then scrolls some more, frowning while Shoma, seated in the chair next to him, sleeps on his shoulder, no doubt drooling onto it.

“Everything’s booked,” Nathan says grimly. “And no tickets.”

It’s the Olympics. They should have expected this. Slim chance there’s going to be anything open, lodging  _ or _ ticketwise. Why is he so stupid sometimes? They can’t stay here though, but now he’s here he won’t go home, won’t give up. Giving up isn’t his nature. So, he takes out his phone and makes the call he doesn’t want to but has to. The longer they’re here, out in the open, the more likely they’ll be discovered. And then what? Run home with his tail between his legs?

“Hello? Yuzu?” Tracy asks sleepily.

“Tracy,” he says, hesitating before he continues. “I did something stupid.”

He can imagine how Tracy reacts on the other end, hearing the rustling of blankets as she shoots up. “Are you okay?” she asks immediately, like the second mother to him she has always been. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay,” he reassures, hearing her sigh in relief. “But I am here in Yangyang airport now. It was unplanned so… I don’t have anywhere to go and everything is already all booked.”

“Oh, Yuzu… why? This isn’t like you. Why would you-- Javi.”

Is he that transparent? Does everyone know?

“I want to see Javi skate,” he says, his voice tiny, hating how small it sounds, like a child’s. “Javi doesn’t say but I think there is very real chance that after the Olympics Javi retires and then I will never see him skate and win.”

Tracy sighs and it sounds complicated. “Okay,” she begins calmly. “You’re going to take a taxi and come here. It should only take you about an hour. I’m going to send you the address and then you ca-”

“And Nathan,” he tacks on quickly, like maybe if he says it quick enough she won’t hear it.

“Can I presume Shoma too?”

“Yes,” he says quietly, likely smaller than before if that was at all possible.

“I guess I shouldn’t expect anything different from you boys,” she says fondly. “So all three of you stay safe, get a taxi. I’ll send you the address and you let me know the moment you get here. I’ll tell Brian for you, soften the blow, and then we’ll get you passes or tickets somehow, okay?”

“Thank you, Tracy.”

She hesitates on her end and Yuzuru tightens, trepidatious again. “Yuzu, I hope you know we can’t tell Javi. He can’t know.”

“I know,” he admits sadly. “Javi might- He might mess up because of me if he knows I am there.”

“He says he's not superstitious but he definitely has his routines,” she says, gentling the punch. “After, alright? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

“Alright,” he says agreeably.

\----

Yuzuru shoots off a text when they’re a few minutes away, and by the time they finally get there both Tracy and Brian are waiting for all of them outside. Tracy welcomes them, going in for a hug with all of three of them at once but Brian is more wary, rubbing at his head, and Shoma thinks his hair definitely looks thinner than he remembers it being.

Then Brian ushers everyone to his room. “You three can freshen up and stay here for the morning. Order room service for breakfast -- it’ll be fine, Yuzu -- and take a nap until the free starts. I’ll finagle something and get you three in to watch after everyone wakes up. Until then, eat something. Take a nap. You three look like you need it.”

“Thank you Brian,” they all say, echoing each other like the children Brian must see them as now.

“You’re welcome. It goes without saying. Do not do something like this again.” And then he remembers he might be talking to Yuzu, his part-time student, but he’s also talking to Yuzuru Hanyu, a prince, and softens his stance. “Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack right after being woken up.”

Yuzuru gets his own bed, of course, falling asleep immediately if somewhat fitfully. Shoma, on the other hand, takes a little longer, warm and comfortable tucked into Nathan’s side. It reminds him of the few times they laid out in the grass behind the palace to watch the sky at night before it got too cold. Foolish as it may seem, part of him hopes he can show Nathan how many stars there actually are in the sky some day, how bright they sparkle and shine, much prettier than the sparkles some of the skaters like to wear sometimes.

\----

When they wake, stomachs rumbling and tired still, they wake up to black caps with embroidered Spanishs flags staring at them from atop the dresser. A present from Tracy that may seem little but goes a long way with Yuzuru, who, upon picking it up, runs his finger lovingly along the red and gold.

Breakfast is a quiet affair, each methodically eating their food, munching slowly, no energy to look at each other much less talk. Midway through Yuzuru gets a phone call, excuses himself, steps away the short distance to the door -- a false modicum of privacy -- and exchanges a few words with Brian.

Nathan could probably work out the conversation if he wanted to, but what was the point? In a few short minutes Yuzuru is going to come right back and repeat pretty much everything Brian told him anyway.

Sure enough, when Yuzuru comes back, pushing his food away, full, having eaten little in comparison to Nathan and Shoma but plenty for himself, tells them the plan. No available tickets, not like Sochi which had been filled nicely but not sold out. Here in Gangneung everyone has come to watch Javi finally win the Olympics. Everyone has been on the edge of their seat with bated breath since yesterday, same as Yuzuru, and Twitter is all a frenzy hoping and praying, sometimes to gods they don’t even believe in.

They’re to be seated in the area reserved for other skaters and representatives, something Brian worked out -- no elaboration there, not like it would have mattered either way -- and that Ghislain Briand (TCC’s jumping coach) will come get them when they can go.

Closer and closer to the third group’s six minute warm-up, the second group finishing up, their dishes long ago neatly piled, ready and waiting for the daily room refresh to be picked up after they leave, Ghislain finally knocks on the door. A lively introduction where he’s beaming at Yuzuru and Nathan almost believes Ghislain is an actual teddy bear magically animated to life follows.

They get a few inconspicuous looks as they settle quickly into their seats, Nathan first then Shoma in the middle, Yuzuru on the tail end in the very last seat of the row in case he needs to make a quick escape. They’re all decked in loose hoodies, casual jeans and sneakers, faces partially hidden by Spain caps.

Soon enough their curiosity leaves them, the last group finally on the ice ready to start their warmup. Everyone’s eyes are glued on Javi, representatives and skaters from other countries too, the last of which are also holding their breaths with everyone else. They all want this for him. Not only a medal but gold. That’s how Javi is. He collects friends like they’re coins, each connection as pure and genuine as the next. Even Patrick Chan who was, at one time, considered his fiercest skating rival and yet also one of his closest skating friends. Patrick had been petty at first, resentful near the beginning of his fall and Javi’s rise, but Javi has a way with people, touching them with his kindness. It was that kindness and his unchanging friendship that had soften the blow for Patrick and, consequently, the fall as well.

Javi is fifth to skate. When they call his name there’s loud cheering, enough to boom probably a mile away, only quieting down when he settles into his starting position. The stadium is so silent Nathan can probably hear a pin drop if he tries it, but then some other attendee might maim him for potentially sabotaging Javi.

_ Man of La Mancha _ fills the rink and it’s good. Javi is smooth, beautiful movements, charismatic, incredibly Spanish. Not that Nathan expected anything less and then oh, popped salchow and everyone’s riding on a razor thin line with Javi, praying for no more missteps. There can’t be another one, the lead he holds from the short not nearly enough to cushion him for another mistake.

It’s a beautiful end and it’s a beautiful program imbued with Javi’s journey, the hardships and the heartache, all the failure and the success and his hopes and dreams and the entirety of his soul. How fitting it is for Javi to skate to  _ The Impossible Dream _ here at the Olympics, surely having won at least a medal if not gold.

The second Javi’s score is announced they hear loud shrieks, Team Spain no doubt, overjoyed at Javi sitting comfortably in first place. Only one more skater--Boyang Jin. Shoma seems dazed, looking around them confused by the overwhelming joy surrounding them, especially the other skaters seated next to them, ones who had competed as well. He doesn’t know though, that everyone has waited for this moment since Sochi.

Four years. There isn’t a person in the stadium who isn’t happy for him.

Next to them Yuzuru is having one of his moments, trying not to cry but clearly not being able to stop. He wipes furiously at his eyes again and again, glasses discarded on his lap, sniffling. He’s making a bit of a scene but the ones behind them can’t see their faces and the ones in front of them glance quickly away when they see the Spanish flags on their caps, drawing their conclusions from that.

Just when Yuzuru has himself somewhat under control, breathing in shuddering breaths, his hand resting on top of his chest, a calming gesture, Boyang’s scores finish being tallied. His score is announced, totalled with the short, landing firmly in second place, and Yuzuru starts all over again because Javi did it. Javi won gold, the dream he wanted but hadn’t dared hoped for, not wanting to be disappointed, not wanting to be greedy.

While the ice ceremony is being set up another skater, Junhwan Cha, slips beside them, crouching low and taps Yuzuru on the back.

“Tracy asked me for favor. To come get you and take you to go see Javi.”

Javi’s whole face lights up when he spots Yuzuru.

“Yuzu, you’re here!” he says brightly but doesn’t get to continue, Yuzuru having thrown his whole body into Javi’s for a full body hug, standing on the very tips of his toes so he can wrap his arms tightly around Javi’s neck.

\----

“Javi,” he cries softly into the crook of Javi’s neck. He’s not sure what to say,  _ how _ to say anything, much less everything he wants, his emotions a complete mess. Happiness, yes, of course. Heartache too, for all the years that have passed, for how hard this season was for him and to come back fighting, to come back and win. Pride because Javi did it,  _ he finally did it. _ Love. From the very beginning and  _ I always believed you could. _

Javi leans back, away, cradles Yuzuru’s face in his hands, thumbs smoothing away the tears on his cheeks.

“Hey. _ Hey. _ Did I not win? Did I make it up in my head?”

Through the tears Yuzuru cracks a smile. He hits Javi’s chest lightly with a loose fist. “Of course you win.”

“So why all the tears?”

_ “Because. _ Because Javi wins. That’s why.” He takes a shuddering breath, feeling himself overwhelmed again when he thinks about it. “Javi wins and I am so happy. I am so happy and everything else and I don’t know how to say how I feel. I just feel so much.”

_ For you. _ But he doesn’t say that part. He never says that part.

Javi understands, knocking their heads gently together, keeping them touching. “Thank you, Yuzu. For always believing in me. I thought about you,” he confesses. “I thought: I can’t disappoint Yuzu. Yuzu wants me to win so I have to win for him. I have to bring gold medal to him next time I see him.”

“Javi is silly,” Yuzuru says. “Javi never needed me to win. Javi is good enough to win on his own.”

“I am, but I still needed you.”

They stay wrapped together, Yuzuru hiding his face, embarrassed as the last ten minutes finally caught up with him. Javi laughs into the top of his head, into his hair, but lets him stay, saying hello to both Nathan and Shoma, asking how they’ve been (good), if they’re still practicing (yes), small talk but with genuine curiosity for their well-being, for their lives.

Too soon Javi is being pulled away by Brian who gives them both a  _ look _ but keeps his lips zipped.

Before he follows, Javi asks, “Are you going back to Japan right away?”

They hadn’t planned that far ahead yet but still he shakes his head no.

“I have to see my family after the TV ceremony. They want to have dinner together to celebrate and my friends will come too. I know maybe it’s impossible but you can… if you want…”

Javi is so earnest, his eyes wide and hopeful, and Yuzuru hurts having to deny him. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I can’t.”

The light dims in Javi’s eyes but even at another possible rejection, he still asks, “Maybe after? If you’re staying-”

“I will go back tomorrow morning,” Yuzuru says, deciding then.

Javi breaks into a smile. “Do you want to hang out a little? At night. The city is small so no one will see us, and we can go to private places with not a lot of people.”

Yuzuru nods. “Yes. I want to.”

And then Brian is back, shepherding Javi away. “I’ll call you when I’m done,” he shouts behind him.

Brian follows, telling the three of them, “Ghislain will take you back to my room. Try not to get into too much trouble.”

\----

Nathan has never seen Yuzuru like this before, and it’s like having his eyes opened for the first time, dawning realization that yeah, Yuzuru feels a lot older than him and all this time he has been a pillar of support for him and Shoma but he’s only twenty-three. He looks so young sitting there on his side of the room, on top of the duvet in a simple white v-neck tee picking up his phone and checking it every other minute like a teenager.

He should probably nap before going to hang out with Javi, the dark circles under his eyes having deepened a darker, bruised purple, but Nathan can tell he’s too excited for any thought of sleep so he keeps his advice to himself. And anyway, both him and Shoma will sleep enough for the three of them.

By the time he wakes up again, Shoma grimacing beside him, unwilling to be pulled from dreamscape, Brian is clamoring into the room delighted but drained too.

Yuzuru is already gone. He doesn’t come back again until morning, light and happy, like he’s floating, glowing.


	9. Chapter 9

Cutting through the center of Yuzuru’s sprawling garden, at least three acres of land if not four, there’s a path lined with large, hundreds of years old cherry blossom trees, all 22 varieties of them. Nathan counted just to be sure. They’re all paired and mirrored along the path, and now that spring has come, spring brings with the blooms of Japan’s most beloved flower.

The willow ones in particular sway with the wind, carrying not only its scent and petals but the thin, pliable branches too, as if reaching out to touch Shoma, sweet and tender.

Surrounded by white and pink like this Shoma is beautiful, breathtaking, and Nathan is intoxicated. By the scent of blossoms, yes, but more by Shoma than anything else. Shoma doesn’t have a clue, prancing head and turning back to smile widely at Nathan.

Better that he doesn’t, Nathan thinks, his heart dropping. What good would it do anyway? It’s not like he’s gonna try. It’s not even like he’s allowed to.

\----

Sitting on the same beach he found Shoma, it hits Nathan that they’ll be rounding out a year next month. A year. A  _ whole year. _ With Shoma in his life. A whole year already, living in Japan. It feels surreal still, like this is definitely happening to someone else and he accidentally switched lives with them. Or he’s dreaming. Is he?

He raises his head, peeks over his sunglasses for a glance of Shoma happily bobbing in and out of the water. No. Not a dream. He could never dream Shoma. Too weird. But no. No. That’s a lie. Too… precious?

It’s only been a year of his life but it feels longer, and Nathan can’t imagine how he’d have made it through with him. He has Yuzuru, sure, but it’s not the same. Shoma kept him sane, kept him active, kept him from sinking into bouts of melancholy mostly. And he made Nathan laugh too, when they’re hiking or swimming in the pool or, even after all these months, when he drags Nathan to the ice rink. Day in and day out most weeks, at least five it not the full seven.

Nathan plops back down. The sun is warm and the temperature is finally catching up but it’s not nearly enough to tempt him into the water. Not Shoma though. Shoma hardly feels it at all, having jumped into the sea like a fish in water. There are just things about Shoma that niggles at his mind sometimes, like no matter how cold it is Shoma never seems to care, especially in water, and there’s an echo in some long forgotten recesses of his brain trying to push itself to the forefront but then something else bats it away, tells him it’s not important. It’s like he  _ wants _ to question but instead he only accepts.

He lets his eyes close while his head hangs over the next rest, letting gravity pull down the weight of his head, feeling loose and relaxed while he lets the memories wash over him again.

He remembers that sick, helpless feeling of being dragged out to sea, screaming out for someone to save him, clawing at the water, the liquid giving between his fingers effortlessly.

He remembers: the taste of salt, spewing water from his mouth the moment he opened his eyes again, thinking he might have died after all because Shoma had been (still is) so pretty, so handsome. Pink lips, soft, brooding curious brown eyes with long, thick lashes Nathan can’t believe is real. And his hair, a wavy, tangled mess, still damp from his rescue.

He remembers how scared Shoma had felt walking off that beach, felt a bit of it soaking into him. Nathan could have been anyone and yet Shoma followed him. A part of him sees how stupid that was now, and he wants to take Shoma aside and warn him. “Don’t follow strangers home. Never follow them home.” He’s sure Shoma would tilt his head in confusion again and Nathan wouldn’t have been able to blame him.

He remembers in the car, the short drive back, Shoma hardly wearing anything and Nathan being distracted by skin, skin, and more skin, by Shoma’s toned thighs, magnetically following the lines up to where, thankfully (yes, thankfully), he was still covered. God, he should have known this is where he was going to end up.

(A fool, that’s where. He was always going to end up a fool.)

Slowly the gentle sound of waves cresting and falling sings him into a light sleep. He doesn’t know how long he’s out for but when he opens his eyes again with a short jerk he checks for Shoma automatically. It’s pure habit, like he needs to know Shoma is safe, like he needs to know Shoma is taken care of.

Shoma is nowhere in his direct line of sight though. He sweeps left, right, left, waits a beat, two, unease clawing at his chest.

“Shoma?” he calls out tentatively. Nothing. Louder, more fearful. “Shoma!”

He walks to the edge, cold water biting at his feet, and wades in slowly, carefully.

“Shoma!”

Nothing still. It’s been too long. His mind devolves into a mess, frenzied and hectic. He dives in without thought, salt stinging his eyes but he stubbornly forces them to stay open. He scans slowly, left to right and then to the left again carefully so he doesn’t miss anything that could be Shoma’s shape. The water bites ice cold but he keeps searching, keeps going. He runs out of air, pops up to suck some more into his lungs, dives again, swimming a little further out. Again. Again. Again again again until his lungs burn, coughing each time he comes up for hair.

Nathan hates that he gives up. That’s the worst part of it, giving up on Shoma.

He crawls back onto the beach, onto dry sand and falls onto his back, eyes pricking with tears and the heartstopping loss of defeat. Shoma is gone. Shoma is gone and Nathan feels lost and helpless. There’s this empty void inside of him that grows and grows and grows, threatening to consume all of him, and it hurts like nothing he’s ever felt before. It hits him then, and he can’t help the laugh that claws out, shuddering and pathetic. It’s so like him to realize only after it’s too late.

It’s almost like a parody of the first time they met. He opens his eyes after feeling the tears slip through the outer corners and Shoma is staring down at him, hair drenched, beads of water trailing down his neck, his arms, his chest, his head cocked to one side as if confused, the sunlight behind him a halo.

Incalculable relief washes over him. “Shoma,” he chokes out, his heart caught in his throat. And then suddenly anger takes over, hurt and confused and embarrassed, and he lashes out, pushing Shoma away harshly. “What? Thought it was funny? Playing a prank? Wanted to see if I would cry?”

Shoma approaches timidly, cautious, hurt written so clearly in his eyes. “Nathan…”

“No just- Just leave me alone.”

He’s being petulant, childish. And he isn’t being fair, is he? Jumping to conclusions on his own and unwilling to listen, mind racing, his heart on fire. He attempts to regulate with deep breaths inhaled through the nose, exhaling through his mouth and willing some of his anger away with it.

Any normal person would have walked away, giving Nathan the space he all but demanded but Shoma isn’t a normal person so he, tentatively, gingerly lies down next to Nathan. Close. Closer, their skin touching, his head right over Nathan’s thudding heart, tucking himself into the crook of Nathan’s arm. 

“I’m sorry,” Shoma says even though he doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, and Nathan feels like a complete asshole.

And like that his anger fractures. As mad as he may be at Shoma he’s angrier at himself. He can’t hide anymore, and in that moment, the one where he thought he’d lost Shoma, feeling that emptiness eating at him, feeling like a part of him was dying too he had to face the cold, hard truth, painfully as it had been ripped out of him.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, maybe when he’d opened his eyes to see Shoma’s face that first, fateful day or maybe it’d been the dumplings? Possibly when he told Nathan his basketball team sucked. Or perhaps it had happened when Shoma had walked back on that and told Nathan, even after his team lost in the second round of the playoffs, that his team is actually very good.

_ I love you, _ he doesn’t say, swallows every last bit of it down.

Instead, finally, he says, “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. It wasn’t a prank, right?”

Shoma shakes his head, tiny little movements while still plastered to Nathan’s shoulder.

“I am still sorry,” Shoma says. “I feel it here-” a tap in the center of his chest, where his ribs dipped into his solar plexus, “-so much hurt.”

“I was scared something bad happened to you.”

“Nothing bad happened,” Shoma offered softly. “I am a strong swimmer.”

“I know. I know you are. But I couldn’t find you and I freaked out. Just- Just stay here with me.”

“Okay,” Shoma promises, wrapping one of his arms around Nathan’s middle, a reassuring  _ real _ weight against him. “I will stay here with you.”

\----

It’s just after breakfast when he hears a loud ruckus. He’s curious, follows the noise, thinks he hears familiar voices but it can’t be. No way. Probably just Yuzuru, except Yuzuru is never this loud. It’s so crazy. He swears Yuzuru just floats sometimes, his feet never touching the ground.

But sure enough, in front of his very eyes-

“Nathan!” they all shout, leaving behind their suitcases to envelope him in a group hug, Tony squeezing him so tight he wheezes a little.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asks, incredulous.

“Surprise!” Alice exclaims.

“Happy birthday,” Janice says, ruffling his hair like the older sister she is.

“No Christmas. You didn’t think we were gonna miss out on your birthday, did you?” Colin asks.

Nathan himself is still in shock. “Mom and Dad?”

And then his parents walk in. His mother fusses over him, her baby, she calls him, and his dad claps his back.

Turns out Yuzuru had suggested Nathan and Shoma take a break from Tokyo for his birthday because he’d arranged this family reunion for him.

\----

His parents are asleep already, tired and jetlagged, but Nathan and his siblings, along with Shoma, make the trek down to the private beach after dinner, dragging an ice chest filled with bottled water and beer behind them. They sit a while around the bonfire with easy conversation, him updating them about his lessons and life and no, he hasn’t slept with Yuzuru yet and no, they haven’t kissed yet either.

“You’re getting married in less than five months,” Janice points out.

“I know,” he says, annoyed, taking a long sip of his beer after.

Beside him Shoma’s silence changes. Before he’d been shy, gluing himself mostly to Nathan’s side. He’d asked Nathan earlier if maybe he should stay behind. He can watch some videos on his phone, like Javi winning the Olympics -- a favorite -- and Nathan had told him no, still too raw from the day before, feeling like he has to keep Shoma within eyesight at all times. Now the silence is tense, crackling with the fire.

Tony changes the conversation then, well aware of the sudden shift in mood from light and happy to dour, maudlin, and unwilling to let it slip any further.

“I’m gonna ask Millie to marry me.”

That does it, his sisters screeching identical, “What?!”

The attention shifts to Tony until later when the sky is finally dark, all remnants of light gone save for their fire, the moon, and the stars. It’s then that his sisters’ curiosity finally gets the better of them and they push Nathan aside, quite insistently too, to bracket Shoma on either side.

It’s all good. It gives him some one on one on one time with his brothers, hanging out and chatting like they used to, when he’d follow the two of them anywhere as their annoying youngest sibling wanting to do everything they did because they were his role models and he wanted to be exactly like them.

It starts with a terrible feeling in his gut that he pushes away. Everything’s good. Everything is more than good, a nice buzz going for him. He’s with his siblings so it’s not like anyone is going to take pictures and send it to the tabloids to expose his underage drinking. But the feeling metastasizes, burrowing deep into the pit of his stomach and claiming real estate until finally he looks away from his brothers.

Immediately, alarmed, he demands an answer. “Where’s Shoma?”

\----

The first sip tasted terrible. Even more than vegetables. In fact, he’d rather take vegetables over this “beer” any day. Everything not water that Nathan and Yuzu had given him before had been sweet, pleasing to his tongue but this is sour, bitter, and hardly goes down without a fight. He sneaks a glance around, peered through his lashes and over the top of the can, stealthily trying to gauge everyone’s reaction but no one seems to blink at eye at the taste. Must only be him, he concludes, something about his body, the makeup or the chemistry or something, his merfolk-ness, that makes this beer taste so terrible.

_ Don’t let it show, _ he tells himself,  _ you can't. If they keep drinking,  _ **_you_ ** _ keep drinking. _

At least it’s a good excuse for when Nathan’s sisters try to dig deeper into who he is, asking him where he came from. His parents? Any siblings? Question after question, circling back when they think he’s forgotten, like this time around they’ll trick him for sure.

It’s shortly after he finishes the one can he’d been handed that it seems to rush into his system all at once. He’s lightheaded, vision blurry like he can’t focus, and the all too familiar ache of drying out comes creeping up his legs but it can’t be. No.  _ No. _ _ It’s too soon. _ It hasn’t even been three days since the last time he soaked.

He can’t-

He can’t stay here.

He drops the can, the slight high ping of empty metal hitting sand loud in his ears, and gets onto his feet, the pain now near unbearable but he pushes through. He has to.

“Shoma, you okay?” one of them asks.

“Yes, yes. I need- I need more air,” he grits out politely but doesn’t wait for their response. He needs to get away as far as possible, slip into the water where none of them can see him, and undo whatever hellfire damage this so called “beer” has wracked upon his body.

\----

“Don’t worry,” Alice says to him. “He only drank a can and then went that way,” he saved to their right. “We figured he might have gotten lightheaded and was embarrassed to stay so we left him alone.”

Incredulously, he exclaims, “You gave him beer?”   
  
Janice chimes in, “It’s just one can,” trying to calm down an agitated Nathan.

He’s the amount of calm he needs to be. Shoma isn’t like other people, he wants to say, but he’s not sure how to explain if they ask him so he keeps his lips zipped tight and stalks off in the direction Alice had pointed to a few moments earlier. A few hundred yards, two hundred, he keeps going until the fire is a ways away, small and tiny, and he can barely make out the shapes of his brothers and sisters.

“Shoma,” he calls out tentatively, soft so as to not startle him, a sense of deja vu and dread gripping him. “Shoma.”

It’s like a scene from his worst nightmare come to life. Shoma lies passed out cold on the ground a few feet from the lapping waves and Nathan can’t get to him fast enough, kicking sand loose behind him as he rushes to Shoma’s side. All he sees is Shoma’s face at first after having flipped him over, hauling him up until he’s half lying atop Nathan’s tucked under legs.

Nathan shakes him slightly, trying to get him to wake up. “Shoma,” he says, urging him. “Shoma. Wake up. Come on. Please wake up. Please, please please please wake up and tell me you’re okay.”

It’s just a quick glance at first, eyes sliding down for a fast once over to make sure Shoma isn’t hurt elsewhere. He almost misses it until  _ wait, what? _ The second take confirms his eyes were not lying to him. Scales, fins,  _ tail. _ It’s all there. It’s all still there even after he squeezes his eyes tight and shakes his head, even after slapping himself once or twice to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

_ Keep it together, Chen. Keep it together. Don’t panic.  _ **_Don’t panic._ ** He can’t. If he panics then maybe Shoma dies. Put it away. They’ll talk about it later. Right now he needs to figure out what to do, needs to act quickly.

Ambulance? He takes out his phone the second the thought enters his mind. Fear grips his heart the very next. No. No way. They’ll take Shoma away to be dissected or studied or whatever. He’ll be held captive, trapped against his will.

Okay. So what? What then? Kenji? He’s loyal and he’s always done everything Nathan has asked of him but what could Kenji do? Nothing, his mind supplies immediately. Great as Kenji is, he would be able to do nothing.

A tickle in his mind tells him Yuzuru. Yuzuru will know. It’s like that night he’d taken Shoma to get sushi, something akin to intuition.

The first time he’s sent to voicemail so he hangs up, tries tries tries again, how many times he doesn’t know, each sequential turn more desperate than the one before until finally,  _ finally, _ Yuzuru picks up.

“Nathan?” Yuzu asks tentatively the moment he picks up. “Everything okay? I was talking to Javi but-”

“I don’t know what to do,” he gushes out before Yuzuru could finish, feeling the urgency of losing time.

“What is it?”

“It’s Shoma. He’s- I- I don’t know. Maybe I’m going crazy. Having a breakdown or something and-”

“Nathan.” Yuzuru’s voice is sharp, decisive, cuts through him with clarity. “What happened?”   
  
“My sisters gave him beer. It was only a can but he had a bad reaction and now he’s passed out on the beach with a tail -- a tail! -- like a fish and everything, with scales and fins and-”

Yuzuru cuts him off, his tone authoritative, taking charge of the situation even though he’s hundreds of miles away. “Put him in the water.”

“What?” He almost shouts  _ Are you insane?! _ _   
_ _   
_ “Put. Him. In. The. Water. Just do it. Call me after he’s okay.”

“Yeah. Okay. Okay.”

Clearly Yuzuru knows more than him. He hadn’t even questioned Nathan about Shoma’s tail. Just skipped right ahead with directions. Phone tossed to the side carelessly, he starts dragging Shoma towards the sea gently, so very gently because he doesn’t want to hurt Shoma, not at all. He sits with Shoma waist deep in water, Shoma mostly submerged. The water is ice cold, bites against his skin but he grits his teeth and bares through it, his body temperature soon adjusting after a few minutes.

An approximation of a lifetime later Shoma finally stirs, shitting in the V created by Nathan’s legs.

“Nathan,” he asks groggily, seeking him out.

“I’m here,” Nathan answers, his relief permeating his words. “You’re okay.”

“I don’t think I will drink this beer again.”

Nathan’s chest unclenches, a chuckle forcing its way past his lips. “You have to stop scaring me.”

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know this is how I would react.”

“No more drinking,” Nathan admonishes resolutely. “Only water for you until we die.”

Shoma nods agreeably. “Only water is good. Can we go back to the house now? I still feel weird.”

“Yeah, can you walk?”

“I think so,” he says but his legs giving out the moment he tries to stand proves him wrong. Without saying a word Nathan offers him his back and Shoma climbs on wordlessly. They pass his siblings, all concerned but he reassures them they’re both fine when they voice said concern out loud.   
  
“We’re gonna go back.”

After they’re out of earshot it’s only silence, Nathan lost in thought as one foot steps in front of the other, bringing them closer and closer to the villa.

Finally, Shoma breaks their silence, more a statement than the question he meant it to be. “You saw.”

He doesn’t deny it, nodding slowly and feeling Shoma tense. He says, yes, but he’s still having a hard time believing it.

“Do you hate me?” Shoma asks warily.

“I could never hate you,” Nathan replies immediately.  _ I love you. _

“Do you think I’m gross?”

“I could never think that either,” Nathan answers honestly, recoiling at the thought.

Shoma turns his head to rest a cheek on one of Nathan’s shoulders. “You feel weird,” he says quietly. “Your emotions. It’s all… empty.”

It’s things like that that he should have noticed earlier. Just the other day Shoma had said almost exactly the same thing, insistently apologizing before tapping Nathan’s chest and essentially telling him he felt Nathan’s pain. Shoma  _ has _ always been different and he knew that but now he’s starting to see every time he had started to question the thought slipped away.

“I don’t know what to think,” he says, continuing his streak of honesty. “Truthfully I’m still trying to process. Give me some time?”

Shoma nods against him, tightening his hold around Nathan’s neck and keeping quiet.

Nathan drops him off in his room, gently lowering him onto his bed, and then locks himself away in his own room after, sending off a quick text to Yuzuru thanking him and assuring everything is fine. Everything is fine, right?


	10. Chapter 10

Shoma is pulled from his slumber when the bed dips. Tiredly he opens his eyes and makes out Nathan’s familiar figure seated carefully on the edge of his bed, His eyes are unreadable as they look at each other. Shoma holds his breath waiting. The ball is still in Nathan’s court, so the human saying goes.

Nathan plays his emotions close to his chest, saying to Shoma, “Will you show me?”

He nods silently, acquiescing, slipping out from his side of the bed and slides his feet into his slippers, Nathan following him quietly into the bathroom.

The silence between them is unnerving, driving the muscles in Shoma’s stomach to shudder, tighten, the tiny little minnows in his stomach swimming in agitation, making him feel like he wants to regurgitate everything he had consumed that night.

He steels himself as he draws the bath, sets the water to disperse lukewarm and while the tub fills he starts undressing. First his shirt and then his pants, his underwear next, Nathan having jerked around at the first sign of Shoma peeling clothes off himself to give him privacy. Funny, he thought. Privacy between the two of them have long flown away with the seagulls. Plus it’s not like Nathan hasn’t seen him naked before. Humans are so… concerned about being clothed in front of other people all the time and Shoma still doesn’t get it. Well, he hasn’t seen  _ all _ people so maybe it was just certain people. Like Nathan and his people and the people of this country.

Completely naked now there’s no excuse to keep hanging back. He steps gingerly into the water, settling chest deep into the water with a sigh. He inhales, deep and sturdy, to collect his nerves, to quiet them down, to build a bit of courage. He hesitates at first, scared, and flicks his gaze to Nathan with uncertainty. When he does this there’s no going back.  _ Until _ he does this though, they’re stuck in stasis, frozen between two states and Shoma hates that. He’d rather know than be loved and hated at the same time.

He leaps into it, willing his legs to change back to their primary form. Nearly every urge inside him tells him not to look, if he doesn’t look it’ll hurt less, but another part of him has to know how Nathan really feels about him, what he really thinks. The first few moments are the most honest and as scared as he is to see disgust it’s better to know. Then maybe saying goodbye won’t be so hard.

The actual look on Nathan’s face shatters all the walls he’d built in an attempt to protect himself, to lie to himself. There’s so much awe and wonder in Nathan’s eyes as they travel from midriff to biconcave caudal fin and then like he can’t help himself he reaches out to touch, only holding back at the last second when he realizes what he’s doing.

Palm still hovering just above the water, he asks Shoma earnestly, “Can I touch?”

Shoma swalls thickly, nods, tense with want, with anticipation, a hot heat growing deep in his belly.

Nathan’s hand glides from one of his hips where skin transitions into scale, slowly, slowly all the way down to his caudal fin where he smooths over the edge with his hand almostly lovingly.

“Amazing,” he says, awestruck, mesmerized. 

Shoma’s heart thumps heavily in his chest, light as a feather.  _ Did I do that? _ He asks himself.  _ He’s this happy because of me?  _ He twists a little at the waist, resting his head on the side of the tub, content to keep watching Nathan look at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he lets out honestly, and he’s putting all his emotions on display now, hiding nothing from Shoma, couldn’t even if he wanted to, Shoma suspects. He can’t parse through any of it, there’s so much he doesn’t even want to try. Instead he basks and lets it warm over his soul.

Long after the water has turned cold Nathan stays sitting by the side of his tub, chin hooked over the edge, one hand hanging out into the water, lightly running his fingertips along Shoma’s scale like he can’t get enough. When Shoma moves, readjusting himself, his scales shift from blue to red for a split second, shimmery in the water, magical and chromatic, and Nathan’s face looks like he’s discovering Shoma all over again.

He turns his head on it’s side, resting it atop his bicep to look at Shoma. “You can tell me more about yourself now, right? I want to know everything. You’re kinda amazing, Shoma.”

Shoma smiles, and asks softly, “What do you want to know?”

\----

Shoma has hardly slept at all when he hears the call a couple of hours before dawn when the sky is still dark, searching searching searching for him. Itsuki, he thought with a rush of love and affection and yearning. His little brother.

He hasn’t seen Itsuki in so long and suddenly Shoma misses him dearly, misses him and his mother and his father and his grand father and Toro and Emma too, their pet seahorses, more than words can convey. He can’t rush to the shoreline fast enough, inside slippers on, thankful for the early hour since everyone is still sleeping and no one will question him.

The second his feet hit sand the slippers go flying off, kicked to the side, and he runs barefoot to the edge of the water, waves licking at his feet.

_ Itsuki, _ he calls out with his mind, let the thought be carried along the wind and the waves.  _ Where are you? _

It’s a breath, two, shallow ones that seem to drag and drag, anticipation swallowing his stomach and then finally,  _ Wait there. I will come to you. _

Itsuki’s head pops out of the water not a minute later. Without a single thought Shoma wades into the water, sleep clothes still fully on, and in a rare show of physical affection he drags Itsuki into a tight hug.

_ Where have you been? _ Itsuki asks, clutching him back. Shoma senses his concern loud and clear, wafting off of him in waves. He is older but it’s always been Itsuki who took care of him, Itsuki who spoiled him, who made sure he was okay and not the other way around.

The story is too long and yet it’s not long at all when he explains the past year to his brother, sending both feelings and images with his words while they sit side by side on the sand. He hadn’t realized he missed this way of communication. Everything he wants to convey is just much easier, all contained into one single thought rather than a string of words. 

_ Just take it back. _

**It’s not that easy,** he insists

Itsuki cocks his head to the side, his eyes calculating as he observes Shoma carefully. _ Why not? _

**I just can’t.**

**_Shoma._ **

He bristles. __ **Itsuki.**

There’s a tense moment where neither one backs down but they’ve been here before, time and time again, and Shoma always wins.

Finally, Itsuki relents.  _ Fine. Leave your magic with this human. We can share mine. _

Shoma shakes his head.  **No.**

_ This is the only way for you to go home. When the sea within us starts to take over you can give it back and vice versa. _

**Itsuki, no,** he sends emphatically.

Itsuki’s nose flares, his eyes sharp.  _ This Nathan will hurt you. Humans cannot help but hurt and destroy. _

Maybe so. All Shoma has known his whole life leads him to only that conclusion and even his short time with Nathan and Yuzu and Javi and all the people in his life now who makes it easy isn’t enough to convince him otherwise.

It will hurt, inevitably, but he cannot let go.

Will it be worth it? Those goddesses’ awful tears, the hollowness he won’t be able to escape from, that horrible, dying feeling Yuzu felt last summer when Javi was saying goodbye. Is  _ Nathan _ worth weathering that storm, not knowing if he’ll survive?

Shoma paws at his chest, massaging the skin over his heart silently, trying to sooth away the phantom ache already forming at the thought. Beside him Itsuki sighs, a clear giveaway that he is -- once again -- caving in to Shoma, resigned to letting Shoma do as he pleases, as is par for the course.

Before he leaves, Itsuki tells him: _ I will be listening for you. Anytime you want to come back home, magic or no magic, call for me and I will come for you, brother. _

**I do miss you,** Shoma allows himself to admit.  **I miss you and mother and grandfather and mother and Toro and Emma. Will you really come if I call? Even if it is just to visit?**

Itsuki knocks their heads together.  _ I will come any time you call. _

**Will you bring Toro and Emma?**

Itsuki’s chuckle vibrates against him.  _ I will bring everyone if you’d like. _

Shoma clears his throat. At the sound Itsuki pulls back, looks at him in shock, and only then does Shoma realize how  _ human _ he must seem now. It had felt so natural but the truth is that it shouldn’t have felt natural at all. Itsuki does not question, however, or for answers, and so the moment passes.

**If they want to.**

_ Yes, yes. Only if they want to. _

He doesn’t want Itsuki to go though, not yet. He is somewhat selfish and used to getting his way, and so he asks Itsuki  _ Stay and watch the sunrise with me? It’s safe here and no one will come  _ and Itsuki nods, draping an arm around his shoulder affectionately.

He stays a little longer than the sunrise and for that Shoma is grateful.

\----

Nathan was a little miffed when it hit him Yuzu knew Shoma’s true nature before he did, but Yuzu makes up for it by forbidding the household staff from entering the pool area when it’s in use by Nathan, Shoma, and Yuzuru, or any number of combinations. They’ve been instructed too -- if absolutely necessary -- to call instead, all for this:

Nathan lies flat on his stomach, content, his fingers zippered together underneath his chin. With an easy grin on his lips his eyes follow Shoma as he flits from one end of the pool to the other. He floats one moment and then suddenly excited he dives, only to emerge and flip over and over and over, rolling in the water like one would roll down a hill.

He realizes -- admittedly a little belatedly -- how beautiful Shoma is in his element and  _ this _ is his element. Shoma is happy, joyful, glowing and so captivating Nathan can’t keep his eyes off of him.

Shoma dives again and in one of Nathan’s short breaths he’d crossed the pool from the opposite end to emerge right beside Nathan, flicking his tail so as to splash flecks of water onto Nathan’s cheek.

“You did that on purpose,” he says, easy and relaxed, no malice in his voice. How could there be when Shoma is enjoying himself so much, finally unburdened and free?

In response Shoma grins and does it again, another few splashes landing on his face. It’s kind of astounding the amount of control Shoma has over his tail.

Nathan relishes in the moment for a minute, closing his eyes and letting the light, airy feeling of being on clouds take over him. When he finally opens them again it’s to Shoma peering back at him, comfortably resting on the edge of the pool, his arms hooked over the cement coping to anchor himself, his head cradled in the crook of his elbow.

They blink at each other, smiling and happy, soft and pleasing, everything seemingly on pause, but then a sudden shift in the mood from friendly into something more charged. Gingerly, so very gingerly, like he doesn’t want to scare Nathan away, he moves along the edge, closing the short distance between them until he’s planting his lips carefully on Nathan’s. If Shoma had been worried he needn’t have. It’s only this chaste moment of a thing, sweet tasting and rose-tinted but Nathan answers it just as chastely. Of course he does.

Shoma sighs into him happily and liquid pleasure pools into the pit of Nathan’s stomach. When they finally break apart they share a shy, secret smile before Shoma flops back into the wonderful, loud and purposeful and joyous, making sure to douse Nathan completely.

\----

The kisses keep happening. Walking in the garden while holding hands. Floating in the pool after they’ve chased each other back and forth, round and round and round splashing water at each other during an impromptu and provoked by Shoma water fight. Playing basketball when Shoma wants to cheat to win. While they’re lying in the grass, Shoma suddenly towering over him, shading his eyes from the sun when he leans down to plant a kiss on Nathan’s mouth.

Sometimes he sees it coming, the tension building thick and heavy, Shoma’s eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and then back up again before he closes in on Nathan like prey.

Most other times Shoma surprises him, the kisses seemingly coming from nowhere. It feels like, in those singular moments, an impulse on Shoma’s part, overwhelmed by affection and the desire too.

As often as they can occur there’s never more than chaste lips on lips, never anything deeper, mouths kept zipped tight, yet it still sends shivers down Nathan’s spine, electricity sparking along each vertebrae while pleasure spikes in his lower abdomen, dopamine flooding his brain demanding more, more please. Brief as the kisses are they’re highly addictive. He knows --  _ knows  _ \-- they should stop,  _ he _ should put a stop to it, talk to Shoma and explain to him why they can’t, why they shouldn’t but Shoma’s lips are a drug he doesn’t want to quit, not yet at least, so he allows himself a little more. Just a little more and then he’ll stop. He  _ can _ stop. He can stop whenever he wants.

\----

Of all the people in the world, Johnny Weir. Johnny freakin’ Weir. Really, Yuzuru? Really? Nathan can’t really say he blames Johnny. In his shoes, if a prince came knocking at his door requesting his service -- designing their reception tuxes -- Nathan would have jumped on in a heartbeat. And Nathan’s watched enough skating with Yuzuru to know Johnny Weir and Plushenko are essentially his idols so really, Nathan should have seen this coming a mile away.

Yuzuru had been with them, had gotten himself measured and sorted out first, and then had whimsied off to complete another errand, leaving only Nathan alone with Johnny. It’s just the two of them, not even Kenji in the corner lurking around, a half finished suit draped and held together onto him with pins and needles. Johnny is speaking mostly to himself, iterating notes and reminders from the little that Nathan has caught. How he’s going to remember, Nathan doesn’t really know since he hasn’t touched his phone at all to actually jot the notes down but then it’s not really Nathan’s problem. He’s just there to be fitted and do what he’s told, and he’d been told to keep his arms outstretched to that’s exactly what he’s doing.

It’s a little crazy how it’s late July already, and it blows his mind how, in less than two months, his entire life is going to change. He’s going to marry his incredibly platonic friend Yuzu  _ who happens to be a prince _ and nothing will be the same again. But, he supposes, nothing ever stays the same. Maybe it’s better to say that his life will finally diverge into a direction he never dreamed possible before. Once they’re married he’ll be a prince too, and he’ll be expected to stand lovingly beside Yuzuru while they perform their public duties, giving back to the people as much as they’ve been given in return. Everything he says and does will be scrutinized and seen as not only a reflection of himself but of Yuzuru and the entire Imperial family.

The wedding had felt so far away before, a year and a half’s worth of time, and it barely felt like it was ever going to happen at all. They weren’t the ones planning any of it, him and Yuzuru. Everything is so steeped in traditions and customs that, prior to the date being officially set, a number of items had already been decided for them. Flowers? Chrysanthemums, the official flower of the Emperor and his family. Colors? Red and white, from the very beginning it couldn’t have been anything else because anything else was not in line with the Shinto tradition. Ceremony venue? There could be nowhere else. Meiji Shrine. And the only location with a hall big enough to host as many guests as were invited was the Imperial Palace with it’s looming, decadent, gold-encrusted ballroom. Even the food.  _ Especially _ the food, carefully selected to highlight the art and beauty of Japanese cuisine but mild and palatable enough for their western guests as well. Not so much Nathan’s family but rather dignitaries, kings and queens from Spain, the UK, France and more.

The only thing for Nathan and Yuzuru to decide were their tuxes for the reception and suddenly, suit being pinned onto him for measurements makes it all real, tangible and concrete, terrifying and inescapable. He looks into the mirror and hardly recognizes himself.

He snaps out of it when Johnny tuts, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth. Johnny takes a step back to assess his work, sighing for reasons Nathan cannot fathom, before stepping in again and brushing what Nathan presumes is lint off his shoulder.

  
“Handsome,” Johnny says, mostly to himself. “Very handsome indeed.” It’s followed with another disappointed sigh escaping his lips and a shake of his head. “I just always thought it would be another curly haired boy.”

“What?” he asks, confused. Another curly haired boy? Who? Was Yuzuru seeing someone before? Yuzuru always gave off the impression of being too busy to date or at least to date seriously but Nathan supposes it only makes sense that he’s been with other people.

“Hmmm?” Johnny hums in reply with a tilt of his head. “Oh my, did I say that out loud? Oh, don’t worry about silly old me. Just a crazy old man speaking to himself.”

“Um… okay.” It’s not really his place to dig for things Yuzuru doesn’t want him to know so he lets it go. “Can I let my arm down now?”

“Oh! Yes. Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, Nathan.”

Silence creeps its way back in between them, Johnny off in his own world again, Nathan drifts into his own too, except this time he can’t help but feel that he’s missing something. Something very important, hidden in Johnny’s words that, if he could just shift the right way, he would be able to see. It’s frustrating to know he’s missing the forest for the trees but try as he might he can’t quite pull himself out of the trees so he can see the forest.

\----

Nathan told himself over and over and over again that he could quit any time he wanted, he chose not to, but with the wedding less than two weeks away his time was up. He has to put a stop to it, and he has to do it now.

In the garden, underneath the willow trees, Shoma stands on the tips of his toes and he kisses Nathan. Tentatively at first, as is their rhythm, and then firmer, more courageous, his arms coming up to wrap around Nathan’s neck to steady himself. Nathan opens his mouth and Shoma slides in, taking advantage.

When he pulls back his eyes are gleaming, his smile soft and brilliant, so Nathan tells himself, “tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow.”

\----

The sad thing about tomorrow is that tomorrow always comes. Inevitably, like the sunrise. Like a goodbye. They’re at the villa again with Yuzuru, one last quiet hurrah, some solace before the storm.

He shouldn’t-

He shouldn’t have-

He shouldn’t have allowed Shoma into his room, tugged along by a held hand, Shoma becoming bolder and bolder, pushing boundaries with Nathan.

They’re in Shoma’s bed sharing open-mouthed kisses, the air hot and heady between them, the room having faded away until there’s nothing left but the two of them and their mouths coming together again and again and again. Shoma whines high in the back of his throat, his fingers clumsy, and a part of Nathan tells him this is it, this is the moment they need to stop. He has to. He  _ has _ to. There’s a line he can’t cross and if he lets Shoma do this, if they get carried away then he won’t ever be able to stop and that’s not fair for him, for Yuzuru, and not fair to Shoma especially.

Shoma claws at this shirt trying to get the buttons undone and Nathan lets him for a moment, pretends for a split second that it’s possible, that this is something they can have. He wants to- he wants- he wants so much and yet-

He breaks the kiss, putting distance in between them. Shoma whines, this time displeased, desperate as he dives back in.

One more. One more. Just one more.

Shoma gets impatient, gives a fierce tug at Nathan’s shirt, buttons showering down on him when they give and finally, finally Nathan stops, pulling away to breathe, to collect himself, his forehead pressed against Shoma's, his eyes closed in despair. He doesn’t want to look at Shoma when he does this.

“Shoma,” he says, gasping for much needed air, Shoma’s head gripped tight between his hands. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“Nathan-”

Nathan doesn’t let him continue. “No. Listen, okay? Just listen.” He pauses to steel himself for this confession, opens his eyes to see Shoma peering up at him, glassy and unfocused. “I need you to hear when I say this.”

He waits for the confirmation, gets it with a slight nod.

“I love you.” Shoma opens his mouth to speak immediately but Nathan covers it with his hand. “Don’t say anything,” he asks with a note of despair. He can’t- It’s better to not know. If Shoma loves him back, if this isn’t just some experimentation because ooooh, human, it’s better he doesn’t know. “I love you. I love you so much but I can’t-” he swallows down the sob climbing up this throat. “I can’t be with you like this anymore.”

The hurt is written all over Shoma’s face, from the way his brows pinch to the slight frown on his lips, the way his eyes are tearing up. Shoma hates crying so much and Nathan feels so guilty making him. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. He should have known better.

“Why?”

Shoma blinks and the tears fall down, spilling over the corners to crawl down the side of his face until it disappears into the pillow, leaving only behind a wet, dark stain. Shoma’s tears eat away at him and he understands fully now why he shouldn’t have let this continue. But he was a stupid boy who  _ wanted _ and like a silly child with no adult in sight he’d let himself have thinking he could put it back like nothing had changed.

“Yuzu, he- I- he’s been so nice to me, to you, and he deserves better than this. Once- Once we’re married there can’t be anyone else.”

There’s nothing for a long time, just silence. When he speaks again it’s low, quiet. “Will I have to leave?”

“No. No no no no no,” he says shaking his head. “Please don’t.”

It’s selfish.  _ He _ is being selfish, all but begging Shoma to stay.

There’s another beat of nothingness while he waits, but he’s not sure anything is better when it breaks.

Shoma says to him, “I want to be alone now,” and it hurts. What did he expect though? For Shoma to say, “Yes, sure, I’ll stay”?

He nods, and nods again, willing himself to let go, to move. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Okay.”

In his own room he sits against his bed, knees drawn up, the heels of his hands pressing so hard against his eyes he sees stars. Doesn’t matter how hard he presses, the tears come anyway. He feels empty, hollow, and it hurts so much he’ll probably never be okay again.


	11. Chapter 11

It’s another night on the beach, the waves lapping around his feet, climbing higher, higher and he hears the call to go home, the pull of it stronger the higher the tide becomes.

Itsuki is right. There’s nothing stopping him from taking back his magic except himself. He’s had more than enough ample opportunity by now, more than a few passing chances but he wanted to stay. He’s had Nathan’s mouth on his more times than he can count, more times than he can remember too, each time infinitely precious, and a part of him always craved that more than the sea craved him. It’s gone now though. There’s nothing left. There’s nothing but a void inside of him deeper than the darkest depths of the ocean. 

It really is time to go home, isn’t it? He closes his eyes, takes a deep, steadying breath, and then he makes the call.

\----

Nathan hasn’t seen Shoma since he put a stop to whatever they’d been doing. It’d been too innocent to be called a relationship and yet he can’t deny there’s more there than friendship. So what was it? Fooling around? He recoils at the thought.

In the end he doesn’t know what he expected. All he knows is that he hasn’t seen Shoma in days and he misses him something fierce, a dull ache emanating from his core but this is exactly what he deserves isn’t it?

He moves along the halls, melancholic and lethargic, hopeful that, as unlikely as it may be, he might run into Shoma in Yuzuru’s part of the villa. Yuzuru has been kind enough to offer Nathan tidbits of information about Shoma even if Nathan hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to ask himself.

This time, instead of the customary silence, he hears a familiar Spanish lilt telling Yuzu softly, “I’m a little hurt. I thought- I don’t know what I thought, Yuzu. Maybe I was wrong all along. We might not see each other a lot. You’re so busy all the time and so am I and I know it’s a lot more different for you but I thought- I thought that at least we were friends.”

Yuzuru’s insistent, “We are,” is tinged with pain these flimsy, thin paper sliding doors do nothing to hide. Aesthetically pleasing and beautiful they may be, and important culturally too, but they do nothing to hide secrets. “Javi, we  _ are _ friends. You are- You are the mos- You are one of the most important people in my life.

Javi returns with his own sadness, the type that doesn’t gouge out the soul like Yuzuru’s but lingers, like the remnant of a scar. “You didn’t invite me to your wedding.”

Nathan’s breath catches.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Of course.

_ Of course. _

How could he have been so blind? A sudden twist and suddenly it all snaps into place.

Scheduling his whole life around Javi’s competitions, the tearful goodbye before the season properly began.

Pyeongchang, how Yuzuru couldn’t stop crying and crying and crying. And the morning after, returning looking like he could float away if gravity hadn’t done him the disservice of tethering him to the ground.

Even when they first met, Yuzuru unable to introduce Nathan as his fiance. He’d thought nothing then because even mouthing the words silently himself felt weird.

Johnny Weir’s words, spoken without thought: I always thought it would be another curly haired boy.

Now he’s out of the trees he can see the forest for what it is.

\----

Javi’s heart thuds quickly in his chest while he waits for Yuzuru’s answer. He can hear it pounding, blood rushing through his ears louder and louder it seems each second that passes by. He swallows thickly, telling himself to be patient. _Be patient,_ _you can never rush Yuzu even when you want to._

The answer finally comes when Yuzuru’s eyes lock with his, dark, dark brown Javi has often drowned in before, his face twisted with a hint of pain, heaving tears lining his lashes as he chokes it out. “If you are at my wedding and I see you, I would not be able to go through with it.”

And there it is.

Hope had seeded even before everything fell apart with him and Miki, and just when he thought maybe he’d like to try once his relationship ended he’d found out Yuzuru was engaged.  _ Is _ engaged. So he had let that seed die, left it alone and unwatered, went back to Miki in hopes that maybe he could salvage whatever they once had. But love doesn’t work that way, and neither does Miki. With Miki it’s either all in or out, no inbetween, no  _ “settling,” _ as she called it because she is no one's second best.

"And you shouldn't be either," she had told them the night they officially broke up.

And then Yuzuru showed up at Pyeongchang unannounced, and oh, how that delighted him, body and soul. It felt right to have Yuzuru there by his side, in his arms, crying about how happy he is. No one understood better than Yuzuru how it felt to miss medaling at Sochi, all those late night talks when one of them should have gone to sleep long, long ago, delirium drunk and baring parts of their soul.

Javi thought it had died, but there, in Pyeongchang, hiding in plain sight far,  _ far _ away from the city center the seed had sprouted.

But what does it change? What does Yuzuru’s own confession, shared so achingly, change? Yuzuru is a prince and in comparison he is nothing. Yuzuru is a prince who is set to marry Nathan whose family is making waves in the pharmaceutical industry with their research and he’s just a nobody from Spain who lucked out.

After all this, Yuzuru is still going to marry Nathan, isn’t he? That’s the kind of person Yuzuru is: Honorable to the core, and isn’t that one of the many reasons why-

Isn’t that why Javi loves him so much? All this time? Probably from the very beginning?

He allows himself a moment of weakness, to have this once and then bury it with everything else he can’t have. Step by step the distance shortens between them, floorboards creaking, until Javi is standing so close to Yuzuru he can feel the warmth wafting off Yuzuru’s body. With one hand he cradles Yuzuru’s face gently, softly, lovingly and with the utmost care, tender because Yuzuru is precious to him and this is the only time he ever will in his entire life.

He tells Yuzuru the words he should have said since the day they met.

“You are a wonder, and you have bewitched me from the moment we met.” He pauses, his eyes blurry as they line with tears he won’t shed. “Even though I will not see you I know that no matter what, on that day you will look so beautiful you will outshine everything forever. You will shine like the sun you are, and to me you are always beautiful, Yuzu. If I was Nathan…” He swallows down the lump. “If I was Nathan my happiness would not be able to be contained. I would be so happy for the rest of my life I would not be able to put it into words.”

It pains him to see Yuzuru crumble, heart-wrenching, ugly sobs ripped out of his chest, filled with hiccups and shallow, gasping breaths.

“Javi,” he chokes out. “I need- I need-”

“Shhh… it’s okay,” he says, interrupting him, stopping him. “It will be okay.”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “You are the only one I have ever- the only one I will ever-”

Javi bumps their heads together, eyes sliding shut. “I know,” he says. “For me you are  _ always. _ Remember that, okay?”

When he opens his eyes it’s to peer at Yuzuru’s closed ones. Still he sees, written on his face sadness, heartache, yearning. “Me too, Javi. Always,” he admits quietly. “Always always  _ always. _ If I could, I would. Anywhere. I would follow you anywhere.”

He lets that sink in for a moment, allows them to simmer in it until finally, it’s time to pull back. Try as he might he can’t prolong the moment anymore. One last time he looks at Yuzuru as an unmarried man and how weird is that? The next time he sees Yuzuru, Yuzuru will be married. But before then he wants Yuzuru to see this, he wants Yuzuru to know he only wants Yuzuru to be happy even if it’s not with him. He smiles at Yuzuru, the “patented” one, the one Sara says gets all the girls melting and their knees weak, and he tells Yuzuru, from the bottom of his heart, “Yuzuru,  _ omedetou.” _

He brushes a kiss along Yuzuru’s cheek, one last stolen memory to cherish, and then he leaves without looking back. No more fussing. It’s done now. Over. It’d been over before it began.

\----

Nathan may be young but even  _ he _ knows they can’t end this way.

\----

The kiss Javi leaves behind lingers long even after he is gone. Yuzuru runs their entire exchange through again and again the tears well up, emotions taking over. It’s the only confession he’s ever given Javi and he never expected one in return. Not at all. Wanted one, yes, more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life but now…

Now he’s not sure if it’s better or worse to know. It hurts whichever way the cards fall. A hand climbs up to his chest, massaging over where his heart rests, a dull ache forming.

The next moment he swallows down the lump in his throat, clears his throat, and wipes away any remnants of tears with the back of his hand. With a steadying breath -- in, out, in, out -- and a count to three, he calms himself down. A wreck he may be, but above all else he is a prince and it wouldn’t do to be seen like this: broken and raw, ruined in ways only Javi is able to do. He is a prince and princes should always be presentable at all times.

It’s then that the knocks come, a series of a shallow four count, knuckles hitting the side of the door frame in place of an actual door to announce his presence.

Nathan. Yuzuru puts on his best smile, hollow as it may be, empty as it may look. It won’t be so bad being married to Nathan. Probably. No, most likely. They get along well, and Nathan is his friend. In many ways Nathan feels like family already, like a brother. His parents are hopeful they’ll grow to love each other eventually. Somehow. Someday. It’s not how his parents would have preferred him to marry but they keep reassuring him, “Someday you’ll grow into each other and you’ll learn to love each other before you know it.”

They don’t know what he knows though. Nathan or no Nathan there will never be anyone else, never be anyone other than Javi. His whole life he’ll never not love Javi, never get over him or  _ be _ over him. He has resigned himself to that fact. Like a wound he’ll gape open but unlike one he’ll never close, never heal and scar over properly. All he can do is put gauze over it, cover it and hide it from sight, slap on a smile so no one will ever know save him, save Javi too because Javi knows him so well, better than anyone, knows all his secrets now, every last one of them.

The first thing Nathan says is, “I don’t think I can do this.”

It’s so out of left field that Yuzuru stands frozen for a second, shocked. Nathan takes the opportunity to usher them to one of the couches, sitting with his head in his hands.

Slowly Yuzuru comes back, shakes himself out of the shock and settles down into the armchair next to Nathan.

“What is going on?” he asks, carefully neutral. “Is everything okay?”

Finally Nathan looks him straight in the eyes. “No.”

It’s suddenly the most honest conversation they’ve ever had.

Yuzuru is at a loss. “Oh.”

“I thought I could,” Nathan says, anxiously continuing, everything that follows a jumbled mess. “I thought, ‘Hey, you’re 19 now, an adult and adults get married all the time,’ but I’m just kidding myself. I’m only 19, Yuzu. I’m just- I’m just a kid, right? Getting married terrifies me and I don- I don’t think I can do it. I mean the thought of getting married to someone I actually do love terrifies me so what the hell am I doing, you know? Getting married to someone I don’t love. And I’m positive you don’t love me back either so really, like what? What? What are we- But what are we gonna do? What  _ can _ we do? Are we really stuck? Do we have too? I mea-”

“Stop,” Yuzuru commands. Nathan does, automatically. “Breathe.” He does that too, without question. “Honestly, Nathan, I don’t know what the hell we are doing either.”

It’s silent between them for a long beat, two, and then Nathan seemingly plucks all his courage and tells Yuzuru, “I don’t love you, and I don’t want to get married.”

And suddenly it seems so easy to give this to him. “Okay. Let’s not get married.”

“That easy?”

Yuzuru laughs, the first genuine one during their whole ordeal. “No. But my family will figure it out. It was too much to ask for to begin with. You are right. You are just a child, Nathan. And you have your whole life ahead of you. I thought, all this time, ‘I have to do this for my family, for my country and for my honor.’ That it was my duty but I think now there is no honor in this. This is a coward’s way out so I will talk to my family and we will figure out what we need to do.

“You are… You are free.”

He sees Nathan’s whole body slump forward in relief.

“I’m free.”

“Yes,” Yuzuru reaffirms.

Quietly, Nathan tells him, “You’re free too.” Then he asks, “If you weren’t a prince, what would you do right now?”

Right now? If he wasn’t a prince, or a prince not bound by duty he’d chase after Javi and tell him to hell with everything. He would never let Javi go. He’d cling on so tight neither of them could breathe, and he’d run away and never come back. They’d buy a house secluded somewhere with a little lake in the backyard where no one can find them and every winter he’d make Javi smooth out the ice so they could skate together, hand in hand without a care for anyone else in the world save maybe later in their shared life, one they built together. A daughter when they’re ready, a son too because Javi’s love is big enough for all of them.

Is he allowed now? Can he have that? Some version of that? Truly? He starts to hope that maybe it’s not too late.

“He’s still out there.”

Yuzuru’s head snaps to Nathan. “What?”

“I asked him to wait.”

His breath catches. One moment he’s sitting in the armchair next to Nathan the next he’s flying out the door, down the hallway and-

There he is in the main guest part of the villa, resplendent even while hunched over, his elbows propped on his knees, fingers linked together while his thumbs twiddle. Beautiful as ever, and Yuzuru’s heart lurches in his chest.

“Javi,” he chokes out.

Javi jerks up, hardly believing even as their eyes connect. Yuzuru approaches shyly, falling onto his knees in front of Javi, working his way between Javi’s thighs and winding his arms around Javi’s neck, arms looping to keep hold. His emotions overwhelm him, tears freeing themselves from his eyes so he hides his face in a shoulder, body trembling.

“Yuzu?” Javi asks tentatively, gingerly, resting his large hands carefully on Yuzuru’s waist.

“I’m gonna be with you,” he tells Javi through the tears. “I’m gonna be with you. I won’t marry anyone else.”

“Yeah?”

Yuzuru can hear how earnest his question is, how true and honest, hopeful. Yuzuru nods against him, squeezing Javi in tighter. He’s never going to let go again. He won’t. He can’t. He’ll fight anyone he has to, he will. His parents, his sister, the prime minister.

“Okay,” Javi says, and maybe it’s that easy. Maybe it  _ can _ be that easy.

Later, when they’re curled into one of the couches in Yuzuru’s resting quarters, tired and drained but finally happy, content, trying to soak up each other through touches and kisses as much as possible, trying to make up for lost time, Yuzuru says to him, “Don’t ever leave again.”

Javi presses a kiss atop his head, murmuring into his hair. “I never wanted to.”

“So don’t,” Yuzuru begs softly. “Don’t ever. Stay with me.”

“Okay,” Javi promises. “I will.”

\----

The hour is ungodly, the sun rising soon, and for the past hour Nathan has been telling himself to go back to sleep. He wants to except he can’t. He’d been tossing back and forth all night, drifting in and out, a sense of foreboding eating away at his brain like a warning.

He finally kicks off the covers and decides if he’s not going to get anymore sleep, terrible as it may be, he might as well start his day. Maybe he can catch Shoma when he sneaks back in before he hides away again.

When he shuffles into the kitchen to get the tea going Yuzuru is already there, sitting at the table with his fingers wrapped around a cup.

He looks up the moment he hears Nathan, offering him a smile and a soft, “Nathan.”

Nathan yawns in reply, covering his mouth politely. “Good morning,” he offers back. “Can’t sleep?”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “I am scared it is all a dream,” Yuzuru admits. “That I will wake up and Javi will be gone.”

“Well,” he says. “If you wake up and Javi is gone, I say chase after him. He probably deserves a bit of chasing after.”

Yuzuru breaks out into a chuckle. “I feel like I have been chasing Javi my whole life actually.”

Nathan shrugs. “So then what’s a little more, right?”

“You’re right,” Yuzuru agrees amiably. “So what about you? What are you still doing here?”

Nathan quirks a corner of his mouth. “What? Got your happy ending so you’re kicking me out already?”

Yuzuru’s nose scrunches but there’s a smile on his lips. This easy moment between them feels good, nice, like they’re finally on the same page and seeing each other for who and what they are--friends.

“You can stay as long as you want,” he tells Nathan. “I only mean I thought you would go to Shoma already. He has been waiting a long time, no?”

Nathan blinks, and then he blinks again. “You know?”

“I am not blind,” Yuzuru admonishes, and then bristles when Nathan gives him an unbelieving look. “Okay,” he concedes, “I am not blind  _ now. _ You and Shoma are not so much ‘you look at him when he looks away and he looks at you when you look away’ like me and Javi. You and Shoma are always looking at each other. I see it now. It has been that way since the moment you brought Shoma back. I did not understand then but I do now.”

“What if it’s too late?” Nathan asked seriously. “What if I messed everything up and I hurt him too much?”

“Then I think Shoma needs some chasing after too, right?”

Nathan laughs at that. His own words thrown back at him.

Then, more meaningful, gently, “It may be too late but too late is better than never, right?”

That same sense of foreboding creeps back to the surface again. “What do you mean?” he asks evenly.

“Do you know the story?” Yuzuru asks vaguely, not looking at him.

“What story?” he prompts, falling for it.

“The Little Mermaid.”

Nathan outright laughs. “You mean the Disney movie? Yeah, everyone knows. But I’m not exactly a prince, am I?”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “No, not that one. The original one. The one about how if a mermaid’s love is not returned, when the sun rises they will turn into foam and die.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, Yuzu.”

Yuzuru nods slowly. “You’re probably right,” he agrees. “It does sound silly. But Shoma has been spending all his time by the ocean. I just worry a little. What if he doesn’t want us to know? What if he thinks he’s sparing us, and that we’ll only think he went home without saying goodbye? I think too it sounds so silly but then why is it the most famous? All the stories of mermaids out there, why is this one the most famous? What if there’s some truth?”

He looks down at his cup again, tea now lukewarm. “Still, I think it is better too late than never, right? You should go check on Shoma.”

There it is again, that sense of foreboding, ominously eating at his insides, urging him to go. “Yeah,” he says, giving in. “I- I’m gonna go check on Shoma.”

“Hurry,” Yuzuru says, hastening him. “I think the sun is rising now.”

Nathan tells himself it’s just a story --  _ it’s just a story  _ \-- until he’s finally out the door and the doubt forms. What if it’s not? What if Yuzuru is right? What if there  _ is _ some truth to it. He didn’t think merfolk were real before, did he? No. And now? Now he knows they are. What if it’s the same? What if he’s dismissing this story as nothing more than a story when it’s real?

What does he know about magic anyway? Nothing, that’s what. He knows nothing about magic or its rules or if there’s even any. He quickens his pace until he’s in an all out run to the beach, trying to outrace the sun.

\----

Even after the call he’s still debating. Itsuki is right, he tells himself again. There’s nothing stopping him from taking back his magic except himself. He’s stronger, certainly, more than capable of holding Nathan down. Or he could ask nicely. Always an option. If he explained Nathan wouldn’t have said no. More likely Nathan would have been falling over himself trying to make everything right again.

Truth is he  _ still _ doesn’t want Nathan to know. What happens when Nathan offers it back freely? What would Shoma do then? There’d be no excuse to stay.

He wanted to stay. More, he wanted to stay with Nathan.

Stay, or go. Stay. Or go. He has to decide. There’s not much time left. Any moment now Itsuki will arrive. The logical part of him tells him to go home, take his magic and leave. There’s nothing left for him here, not now, not later. Nathan and Yuzu are kind and Yuzu will provide for him however long he wants but he’s not sure the change between Nathan and Yuzu is something he wants to witness. The emotional part of him, the part that is so clearly in love with Nathan -- he sees that now -- can’t bear to let go.

Stay, or go.

Stay.

Or go.

Stay.

Or-

_ Shoma. _

Go.


	12. Chapter 12

Yuzuru smiles at Javi as he lists into the dining area, rubbing his eyes sleepily and plopping down into the chair next to him.

Head thunking on the table, he groans before asking, “Why are you up so early?”

Affectionately Yuzuru reaches out, running his fingers through Javi’s curls because he can. He can touch now, and that knowledge fills him with so much joy, calm and soothing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says, fingers running down the back of his head to skim along the nape of his neck down to his jaw, to his chin. Javi leans into his touch, pressing a kiss into the palm. “And I play a prank on Nathan,” he adds.

Javi finally opens his eyes, narrowing them in Yuzuru’s direction. “Cariño, were you being mean?”

_Cariño._ That sends a shiver down his spine, sweet and warm. _Cariño. Cariño._

“Only a little,” he answers. “Nathan is too cute.”

“Only a little?”

“Only a little,” he confirms.

“Okay,” Javi hums. “Now, tell me where the coffee is.”

Yuzuru laughs, his nose scrunching. “Javi, we are a tea drinking family. No coffee.”

That itself wakes Javi up enough to make a horrified face at Yuzuru. “No coffee?”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “No coffee.”

Javi groans, slumping back down onto the table. “I can’t live without coffee, Yuzu.”

Cute, he thinks. Javi is so cute. But he knew that.

“I’ll have the house staff go into town for your coffee later,” he promises.

Again, another kiss on his palm. “Thank you, Yuzu. You are the best.”

\----

Panic begins to set in, taking more and more hold of him the closer he gets to the beach. Shoma is nowhere in sight but his clothes are laid out on the beach near the receding waterline, neatly folded and just waiting to be found.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Nathan calls for him, wading deeper into the water each time he shouts Shoma's name.

\----

Even under the water there is no mistaking Nathan’s voice calling out his name, loud and frantic and desperate. He’s not that far out yet, far enough he can pop up unseen to the human naked eye from land but he’s not so far out that it would take any significant amount of time to go back.

He’s conflicted for a moment, caught between Nathan and Itsuki, but only for a moment. The easy thing would be to cut his losses and run, run back home and never come back but it’s only right to say a proper goodbye, give a good, clean end to this whole thing, whatever it is. Was. It’s only fair, he thinks. Nathan took care of him, cared for him, and Shoma cares right back.

Itsuki catches his wrist the second he turns back towards shore. _Shoma, please,_ he implores. _You’ve given him enough of your time._

**I just want to say goodbye,** he offers up.

By the look on his face Itsuki doesn’t believe him. Shoma’s not sure if he believes himself either, but finally Itsuki lets go.

_I will wait here._

Nathan finally stops yelling when his head breaks the ocean surface close to shore, wading further into the water to meet him. Before either of them speaks he drags Shoma in for an embrace, his whole body slumping into Shoma’s.

“You’re okay,” he says into Shoma’s hair.

Confused, Shoma tips back. “Yes,” he says cautiously. “I am okay. You think I was not okay?”

“I knew you were,” Nathan says in answer. “But I don’t know. I freaked. Yuzu was telling me weird things and I knew he was just messing with me, but then this feeling and then I get here and I don’t see you at all and I know nothing about magic, like absolutely zero, so I thought maybe? But hey, you’re okay. Just on a morning swim?”

Shoma can feel his whole face falling, and with it Nathan’s falls too.

“Oh.”

“I need to go home now,” he says by way of explanation. “It is time. I- I have to do this for myself now.”

Nathan’s face twists, something complicated and complex, a million thoughts seemingly ripping through him all at once. His emotions are untethered, chaotic, and Shoma can’t make sense of any of it, left or right. He’s grasping at straws, as the saying goes. It’s all mess, mess, more mess until it stops with a sudden clarity, acceptance shining through.

“Can I tell you something before you go?” Nathan asks, one hand rising to cup Shoma’s cheek, continuing when Shoma nods. “I love you.”

There’s something different this time, like Nathan is open for him in a way he wasn’t the last time they were here. Tentatively, he reaches out, asking quietly, “Am I allowed to say it now?”

Nathan’s breath catches, his brows pinching in, and he apologizes. “I’m sorry. Yes. Of course you can say it. I shouldn’t have stopped you before. I was selfish and dumb.”

“I love you, too,” he says, each word slow and careful.

“Will you ever come back?”

So much earnesty on his face but Shoma can’t promise him anything. “I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “Maybe.”

Nathan nods, accepting his answer even if his eyes are a little sad. “I’ll wait for you,” he says like a promise.

“Can I…?”

“Anything.”

So he leans up, their mouths touching, meeting, opening to each other for maybe the last time. He lets them have the kiss for a few more beats, and then he calls back his magic. Nathan feels it too when the magic climbs from the pit of his stomach, up his through his ribs and then gone.

“Goodbye, Nathan Chen,” he says when they break.

“Goodbye, Shoma.”

And then he lets go. There’s a moment where they stare at each other, hurting a little, pained, wanting to freeze time but try as he might he can’t hold on forever.

“Goodbye,” he says one final time, and then dives back into the sea, catching a glimpse of Nathan’s thin smile and a slow waving hand.

\----

Nathan doesn’t know how much time has passed. It’s like he’s in a standstill while everything else moves around him, life blurring right by. He comes to with Javi settling down next to him, legs crossed in the sand, the sun high and the air a little bit warmer because of it. A lifetime in an ice cold rink doesn’t change the fact that Javi is indeed very Spanish and a child of the summer. He has wrapped himself in a coat to fight off the slight chill.

Javi speaks first, just an open-ended, “So.”

Nathan closes the conversation with a concise, “Yeah.”

Javi hums and Nathan spots him nodding out the corner of his eyes.

“I think you and Yuzu have quite the story to tell me.”

The laugh leaks out of him, a tiny burst of emotion. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

Again, Javi hums. “Well, why don’t you start where you think the beginning is.”

So he does, from _his_ beginning.

“A tsunami?” Javi asked, eyes wider than Nathan thought humanly possible.

Nathan nods.

Seconds later, “Naked?”  
  
Nathan chuckles, low in his throat. “Yeah. Like absolutely nothing.”

Even later than that, eyes bulging, “A merman?!”

“I know right?!” slips from him, incredulousness soaking every word.

And then the inevitable end, “Shoma went back home.”

The smile on Javi’s face dims along with Nathan’s, and he claps a hand on Nathan’s back, silently offering his condolences.

More time passes, and again it’s Javi who speaks first. He doesn’t look at Nathan, instead choosing to keep his gaze to the water. “It’s not over,” he says confidently.

“Pretty sure it is,” Nathan says. “There’s like an ocean between us now.”

“There’s an ocean or more between me and Yuzu all the time,” Javi shoots back cheekily. “Still ended up together. That’s the thing about the love stories that are worth it. They will find a way Nathan. Don’t give up. Just do what your heart tells you.” He turns to look at Nathan then, piercing him with kind eyes. “So, what does your heart tell you?”

Nathan had forgotten how cheesy Javi can be, having forgotten those Instagram girlfriend posts with their saccharine sweet words of adoration. Or maybe the rest of the world has just forgotten how to be romantic. That’s what Javi is, isn’t he? A romantic at heart. And he got himself a prince.

He takes a moment to let Javi’s words wash over him. It’s kind of weird, he thought, thinking about what he wants.

Finally, he asks Javi, “You think Yuzu will let me stay?”

Javi tilts his head a bit in confusion, so different from Shoma’s own mannerism that Nathan can’t help but be reminded by the stark contrast, a sting of longing and yearning to see it again.

“You want to stay in Japan?”

Nathan nods slowly, letting his decision sink it. It feels like the right thing to do. “I’m gonna wait here,” he says. “Until Shoma comes back.”

Javi flashes him a grin, one filled with heart and his famous Spanish charm. “Okay, good plan,” he says, words dripping with encouragement. “Now, let me bring you back to Yuzu or he’s going to hunt us down.”

\----

As it’s happening, Nathan doesn’t realize he’s starting a pattern, a cleansing ritual that following Sunday, just after the wedding, after he’d returned to the villa from Tokyo.

He sits on the beach all by himself and speaks to Shoma, imagines he’s out there somewhere listening, that his thoughts will somehow be carried by the waves to wherever Shoma is. He starts with the little things.

Instead of him and Yuzuru marrying, Saya and her longtime fiance had gotten married instead.

“It would be a waste, no?” Saya had asked the room filled with the people who needed to know, her words pointed as she went on. “All the guests have made their plans already and it would be inconsiderate of us to change our minds so last minute. This close to the date as well. All preparations are nearly complete and paid for. I do not see why we would throw everyone’s hard work away.”

For a moment Nathan’s heart stopped, but then she continued, explaining herself.

“I have been thinking for quite some time that I am ready to move into the next phase of my life,” Saya said evenly, self-assured and confident.

Her eyes were kind as they swept across Nathan’s, shifting and softening with fondness when they finally landed on Yuzuru whose own eyes could not meet hers, slanted away with guilt. Then she started speaking in Japanese, words that Nathan, after all the lessons, could not hope to piece together for any coherence on his end. Even as she spoke to the whole room at large Nathan felt their intent directed to and only meant for Yuzuru.

“I still don’t know what Saya said to Yuzu,” Nathan says, a hint of a smile on his lips. “After all the lessons Yuzu paid for I still really suck at Japanese.”

There’s other little things too, like the engagement gift. The large sum had been returned only for the Imperial family’s trust to turn right back around and invest it into the company instead.

“They say it’s easy to do that now without questions,” he tells Shoma. “Because the company has a higher profile now than it did back then. Also, I guess we’re kind of ‘family friends’ now? So it’s not so weird to invest.”

It all builds up until there’s only one thing left. He’s not sure how he wants to address it.

“Yuzu told me,” he finally said. “About your magic. About how I had it all along.”

He clamps up, shutting down. It’s too complicated, all his feelings and thoughts. He’s not ready. 

\----

“Do you live out here now?” Yuzuru asks as he approaches, shoe-clad feet light in the sand. It’s crazy how Yuzuru seemingly floats everywhere he goes, hardly ever making a sound. He doesn’t sit down next to Nathan, instead choosing to stand. “Should I build you a house on this beach?”

That draws a low chuckle out of him. “Sure, why not. Make it easier for me. Step out my door, arrive at my destination. Sounds like a dream come true.”

He tilts his head up to catch Yuzuru’s eyes with his so they can commiserate together in the absurdity of their conversation only to come face to face with a thoughtful look instead, contemplative like he’s seriously thinking about doing just that. Nathan has a genuine moment of _oh shit_ because of it. Yuzuru has an _ice rink_ for heaven’s sake. What’s a house on the beach in comparison?

“I’m joking,” he expels quickly with a nervous laugh. “Do not build me a house here.”

“Not here,” Yuzuru agrees. “I think maybe back there,” he adds on, waving behind them, “where the sand stops. Then can build good foundation.”

For a moment they stare at each other in silence, Nathan wide-eyed with disbelief, Yuzuru wide-eyed with faux innocence. Yuzuru breaks first, cracking a smile.

“Silly, Nathan,” Yuzuru says fondly, shaking his head. “House on the beach does not make sense. Villa is a short walk away only. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes if slow.”

“Yeah, you say that,” Nathan shoots back nonchalantly. “But you have an _ice rink,_ Yuzu. And a multi- _acre_ garden. And you got Shoma like a hundred sweaters even though he never wanted to wear them ever.”

When he looks again the fondness is still on Yuzuru’s face, tinged with maybe a hint of sadness before it recedes completely, gone like it’d only been a figment of Nathan’s imagination. Yuzuru is good at that--hiding.

“Come back to Tokyo with me,” Yuzuru says, suddenly changing the topic.

Nathan’s brows draw in, confused.

“Javi will be doing the Japan Open in Saitama.”  
  
His mind works quickly, putting the pieces together. “You wanna go. With me?”

“I think it would be nice. You are my friend but you are also Javi’s friend. I think Javi would like it very much.”

\----

“Pretty much everyone knows now,” he says, offhandedly speaking while digging out the moat trench for his sand castle with his fingers. “We were banked by like ten security guards and then Yuzu cheered for Javi like one of those medieval princesses in the stand rooting for their chosen knight and then the news caught it and now tabloids follow them around.

“Don’t know. I think for the first time in Yuzu’s life he doesn’t care. They go on normal dates, you know? The press eats it up. I don’t really get it though. They just do things like go to Tokyo Tower and the night market and they hold hands on walks and stuff. Maybe that’s the appeal or something. Like the novelty is that Yuzuru is an incredibly rich prince doing mundane, boring, date things with his boyfriend instead of ridiculously outrageous things like flying him to Paris for lunch and then New York for dinner, I guess.”

At last he connects the moat into one, continuous strip.

“Right. Enough about Yuzu and Javi. So me. Me… Well, nothing new really. I applied for Yale again. Hoping to start in the spring but it’ll probably be more like the summer before I can begin. Oh, I called Raf. Did I ever tell you about him? Probably not. He was my coach from before. At Japan Open it kinda hit me. Being there I realized I want to skate and compete again. Raf says it’s not gonna be easy and I know that but hey, what else am I doing, am I right?”

\----

“Javi is basically retired so he’s helping me a bit. Raf can’t go to the smaller comps with me so Javi is gonna go with me to regionals. It’s all rushed and they’re really old programs but hey, nothing wrong with that, I think. We’re leaving in a few days. I think Javi is more nervous than I am.”

\----

“So, I didn’t win but you know, that’s okay. I got fourth so it’s good enough to go to sectionals and Javi said it’s pretty good considering the two year break and only a few week’s practice. This year is like prepping for the SAT. What’s important is the summer senior test skates.”

\----

Shoma had felt it strongest at first, the burning desire and pull to go back. It would dissipate with time, he told himself as he reassured Itsuki and the rest of his family, who had heard of his whereabouts from Itsuki. Before he knew it it’d be gone and then he’d go about his life much the same way as before. As the days passed like the changing tides, the worry in his family receded bit by bit until it almost felt like everything was as it should be.

Most times he succeeds at pretending everything is as it was. There are a handful of times though, when there are cracks in his facade and his heart calls out to Nathan like a song. Missing Nathan is like that sliver of his magic innately a part of him, like Nathan has embedded himself into a part of Shoma’s soul.

It’s so crazy but sometimes he thinks he hears Nathan calling for him. It’s almost nothing, really, more an echo than anything. Before he had pushed it off as wishful thinking manifesting itself in the water but today he allows himself this. He basks in it, in how it envelopes him in the sea, and lets himself be carried away.

The sea goddesses will take him where he needs to go.

\----

The first time he couldn’t believe it--Nathan’s words carried to him with the help of the waves. He keeps himself at bay and listens, unable to bring himself to approach.

Nathan had told him, accompanied with a laugh: I guess my season’s over. I kinda bombed at sectionals.

And then, because he doesn’t like to talk too much about himself, Nathan starts talking about everything else, like how there’s a whole side to Yuzu they never saw.

“When Javi and I got back to Tokyo Yuzu, I kid you not, literally high pitched screeched and launched himself into Javi’s arms like they were in a movie. I don’t know. It’s like Javi gets this whole other younger version of Yuzu or something. The non-princely, fun version.”

The next day, when Shoma came back, nothing. A one off, he decided, but then what did he know? Then the echo, the call again, and he couldn’t not.

There is no set schedule, only that Nathan makes the drive to the villa once a week, spends a day or two before he goes back to Tokyo where he’s training more seriously now. His season may be over but it’s just the beginning of his career.

\----

Even rain, snow, the cold, Nathan is undeterred. It turns out Yuzu had built Nathan a little bungalow on the beach. A shelter from the weather, Shoma had pieced together from what little he could gather.

“He said he wouldn’t,” Nathan had said, but Shoma had felt Nathan’s gratitude.

\----

There’s a stretch where Shoma thinks it’s really over. Again. One week, two. Nathan doesn’t come. Breaching into the third week Shoma tells himself he won’t go anymore but day after day, of course he goes.

“I went home,” Nathan says when he finally comes back. “My mom made so many dumplings. Reminds me of last Christmas. I think she almost made as much as you and Yuzu did.”

The memory fills Shoma with warmth and affection and for a second he thought about swimming to shore.

\----

Online classes start and he brings the work with him to the little bungalow, equipped with it’s own wifi. Once it gets warmer and if the weather permits he does his homework on the beach, in between little bouts of conversations with Shoma.

It’s weird. It feels kind of like the intuition he had with Shoma before. He gets the feeling his words _are_ reaching Shoma.

\----

It’s his birthday when he finally allows himself to say the truth:

_Maybe it’s a little messed up but I’m glad I had your magic._

And:  
  
 _I wanted you to stay. With me. So, if that was the reason you stayed so long, I’d do it all over again._

\----

“Just go to him,” Itsuki says, appearing by his side. Shoma had been so caught up in Nathan telling him about his test skates he hadn’t sensed Itsuki coming.

He wants to but there’s still some doubt. What about-

“Don’t stay for us, Shoma. Mom and dad will understand. We just want you to be happy.”

It takes a few more days until he works up enough courage to.

\----

The whole ride from Tokyo to the villa, bypassing the main house and straight to the bungalow, Kenji permeates this pleased, bubbling under the surface excitement that Nathan can’t quite ignore. It’s not something easily discernible from his usually stoic face, but there’s a spark in the air.

When Nathan asks what it’s about Kenji smiles wanly at him, eyes ever patient and kind, and tells him, “Nathan-sama, it is a good day today.”

It is, Nathan supposes. The sun is high noon and the clouds are pure white, no sign of rain in sight. That, along with low humidity and a nice temperature in the mid-70’s has Nathan in a good mood too.

He doesn’t believe his eyes at first. Just a few yards away. Shoma. In his bed. Sleeping. Nathan’s heart seizes and he freezes in place. For one split second he’s filled with unexplained terror and the thought that this is too good to be true. And then Shoma grimaces, tosses, kicks the blanket off and Nathan relaxes. He leaves his stuff by the door and climbs into bed.

Nathan isn’t sure what he’s going to say first, he realizes as he stares at Shoma’s face. He wracks his brain for something, anything, running through scenarios in his head. Should he pretend like no time has passed? Or is a simple _hello_ the best option? Should he say something smart or witty? Or ask Shoma how he got in. The household staff. Of course. No wonder Kenji had been so pleased with himself. Did everyone else know? How long? Yuzu? Javi?

It’s only when he blinks awake the second time that day that he realizes he’d fallen asleep. Unlike that morning, however, this time Shoma’s eyes greets his. All thoughts from before, all the scenarios, they slip away, and it’s Shoma who has the first word.

“Hi, Nathan,” he says, a little smile playing on his lips.

“Hi, Shoma,” he echos, and then, “I waited.”

“I know,” he replies, and then he narrows the distance between them and kisses Nathan on the mouth.

\----

Some things never change, he muses when they return to Tokyo. It’s all face petting and adoration with Yuzuru and with Javi? Still that same, damnable crush with the large puppy dog eyes. It’s not like he’s one to point fingers either. He can’t deny that once in a while he still gets starstruck by Javi. Come on. Olympic Champion as one of his unofficial coaches? How awesome is that?

It’s a couple of weeks in Tokyo getting used to a new rhythm with Shoma. Sometimes when he wakes up he can’t believe this is real, that he gets to have this now.

In June they go to Fantasy on Ice, front row. He’s not sure if it’s Javi’s doing or if it’s Yuzu’s but it hardly matters when Shoma’s eyes light up. Ice shows are different from competitions. It’s fun, and silly, and a spectacle. In the end Shoma picks up new skaters to like, like Daisuke Takahashi, but Javi remains his favorite.

\----

He didn’t need much convincing to take Shoma home to meet his family, this time as his boyfriend. He’d given them the speech before, in private, laying down some ground rules. No alcohol, no naked baby pictures, limit of one embarrassing story per day, please do not crowd him, and-

“Please please please _please_ do not ask him about where he’s from or his family or why he disappeared or anything.”

“So we’re just going to pretend like you weren’t moping all these months and especially during Christm-”

_“Yes.”_

They stare at each other, a contest, and then Alice says, “Fine.”

Nathan breathes again, a sigh of relief. “Awesome. Tell everyone?”

It’s unclear how they end up on a road road trip driving down the coast of California with Nathan’s family as their last destination. In the planning phase it kind of just happened, something about how he never really got his final summer before college experience being in Japan and the fiance of Japan’s prince and all, and then Yuzu and and movies and Javi and somehow, not two weeks later, he’s driving a car down Highway 1 after a sixteen hour flight and promises to Javi that when he returns it’s right back to business with training.

“You can be World Champion one day, Nathan,” Javi had said. “We just have to work really, really hard together.”

With the ocean on one side, quaint little towns in between, fields and forests interchanging on the left, and Shoma next to him it almost feels like freedom. Most evenings they set up camp on a beach somewhere, a fire crackling beside them as they watched the sun set and the stars rise, listening to the lullaby of the ocean and the sound of waves.

Just outside Santa Barbara where it’s only the two of them on that narrow strip of sand and earth, Nathan gently pushes into Shoma. Shoma sighs against his mouth, pants out a needy _Nathan_ that lets him know he’s ready.

Curled up on the blanket afterwards, cuddling with another blanket on top of them, warm and hazy, Shoma tells him a wish. “I want to show you my home too.”

He hums, fingers playing with Shoma’s hair. “Someday, let’s do it.”

  
  


\----

Even imbued with Shoma’s magic coursing through him he can’t seem to cross that hurdle. He keeps freaking out and then clawing his back back up to the surface for air. Shoma is patient with him but Nathan himself is getting frustrated. He doesn’t understand why he can’t just do it. Let go and breathe.

_You can breathe underwater!_ He shouts internally at himself and yet he claws his way back up to the surface again, kicking his legs furiously, desperately. The following attempt isn’t any better either.

It’s the one after that that finally does it. Nathan is sputtering, still cursing himself mentally when Shoma kisses him. Like a well learned habit Nathan opens up immediately, letting himself get lost in Shoma’s warm mouth. Slowly they sink down but he isn’t afraid when Shoma is holding him, keeping him safe.

_Breathe,_ he sends Nathan now that Nathan has kind of worked out how to communicate with thought. _Breathe._

_Yes,_ his mind says, his body agreeing.

Shoma’s pleased moan vibrates through the water rather and wow, that’s different. It sends a thrill down his spine. More. He wants more. He always wants more when he’s with Shoma, and when Shoma pulls back Nathan chases those lips, that mouth, that heat.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s finally, _finally_ breathing underwater, his lungs open and taking the oxygen he needs in liquid form. Shoma is smug and Nathan rolls his eyes, affectionately swatting at him, chasing after him when Shoma slips away. They begin a game of underwater tag, Shoma taunting him by staying just outside of Nathan’s reach.

There is something else that’s vibrating through Shoma though, louder and louder as the days go by.

_Home._

Shoma’s home and Shoma’s family. Nathan’s finally going to meet them and Shoma can’t wait to show him off.

They ride the currents mostly, letting the water push them where they need to go. Sometimes they surface, taking a detour to ride the swells of the wave, feeling the power of the ocean goddesses at work. The sun is warm on his skin when it’s day, the clouds sparse but the blue sky endless.

The stars at night, the ones Shoma wanted to show him, the ones he’d told Nathan about late that night near Santa Barbara. They’re so plentiful and they’re so beautiful and floating on their backs in the middle of the Pacific Nathan can’t get enough of them.

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Shoma tips his head back to look at Nathan, his gaze fond, and then he flops over onto his stomach, kicks his tail once, twice, swims to Nathan and kisses him deep and thorough under the full moon and all the starlight. Nathan sinks into it, lets Shoma be the tide that pulls him under, this moment with Shoma feeling like its own type of magic.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ever wonderful Panda_tan unexpectedly gifted me this beautiful piece of art inspired by this fic. Words cannot express how thankful I am. If you like their art, please leave them a wonderful comment. Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally done. It feels like an eternity ago when I first started this story and even now part of me can't believe it's actually done. It's been... quite a journey filled with lots of love and also a lot, a LOT, of frustration as well. I'll never write another chaptered fic again, that's for sure. 
> 
> But, for everyone who stuck around and finished, I hope you felt the ending was satisfying and that the story was able to provide some happiness, little as it may be.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated =)


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